


Not Like a Thunderbolt

by xenachakram12



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Canon, Cooking, Domestic, Family, Family Fluff, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, Season/Series 03, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenachakram12/pseuds/xenachakram12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling devastatingly in love with Kurt Hummel is super easy; it’s everything else that comes afterwards that’s hard.  Between Blaine, Burt, and burnt crêpes, Finn struggles to understand what it means to love his stepbrother—and what his life would be if he didn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Like a Thunderbolt

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is Alternate Canon in the sense that Blaine and Kurt never got together, so Blaine never transferred to McKinley. The fic takes place in the latter half of season 3, the last few months of Kurt and Finn's senior year in high school.

Finn learns from movies that when you fall in love, it’s supposed to feel like a thunderbolt. The romantic lead goes about his or her life being a magazine editor or a radioactive, spider-bitten teenager until they meet the person that just  _strikes_  them, which sometimes ends with a kiss or a wedding, but  _always_  with a happily ever after.

Finn admits that he’s never really had that experience. His love for Rachel had grown slowly; every day she did little things that were cute and awesome and persistent until eventually it added up to love. When he proposed and she accepted, he thought it was the beginning of their fairy tale, but in the end what he had to offer wasn’t enough for her. When he thinks about it, Finn wonders if they didn’t last because he didn’t fall in love right.  
  
It isn’t a thunderbolt with Kurt either. With Kurt it’s like water… like a spring shower that is light and unassuming until it collects and overwhelms; flowing over, into, around without exception until everything is overtaken. It may not be the same as lightning, but he figures that it’s pretty close. Besides, which one is more devastating: a lightning strike or a flood?  

 

[ ](http://s303.photobucket.com/user/xenachakram12/media/banner2.png.html)

 

Finn and Kurt sit elbow-to-elbow at their kitchen table on a Tuesday night doing their homework. Usually Kurt does his in his bedroom—most often with Blaine in tow—but Finn needs some help with balancing chemical equations. The problems are kind of like if science and math had babies, and then those babies were exposed to radiation and became mutant-hybrid supervillains. Since Finn doesn’t have super strength or laser eyes, Kurt offers his help.  
  
“Really?” Finn is a little shocked. “I didn’t know you were any good at this sort of thing.”  
  
Kurt tilts his head in Finn’s direction. “I have many hidden talents, Finn. I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.”  
  
Finn backpedals. “No, no… that’s not what I meant! I just meant that you never said you like math and stuff. French is your favorite class and math is like,  _way_  different.”  
  
“Yes, well. I suppose I can give you a pass. You wouldn’t be the first person to be too dazzled by my wardrobe and general fabulousness to notice my other abilities.”  
  
Finn looks at Kurt’s face to decide if he’s serious—Finn knows that if Rachel said the same thing, she totally would be—but Kurt’s eyes are dancing a little and his mouth is all smirky. Finn relaxes and smiles back.  
  
“So,” Kurt says, back to business. “How can I help?”  
  
Finn shows Kurt his homework set. Kurt had Chemistry last year while Finn had put it off, and Finn could kick himself for it now. Why did he think that postponing his hardest classes was a good idea? Did he really think that he’d be  _that_  much smarter when he was a senior?  
  
Kurt shows Finn the steps to solving the problems. He gives Finn tips, telling him that if he puts in the wrong coefficient that he can always change it later. “That’s why it’s called ‘balancing’, Finn… If you get too many molecules on one side, you can always balance it out with the other side!” Kurt is bright and animated; trying to make it make sense to Finn, but trying to make it fun, too. Finn isn’t sure he’ll ever find it  _fun_ , but he appreciates the effort.  
  
After a couple of examples, Kurt steps back to let Finn try. It’s not as hard when Kurt can redirect him from mistakes, but eventually he leaves Finn to do it all on his own, causing Finn to start with the wrong molecules and throw his hands up when he reaches a dead end. When Finn gets stuck though, Kurt is patient, asking Finn questions to direct him where to look next, and when Finn gets too frustrated, Kurt isn’t afraid to stop Finn from raging with a hand on his forearm. It doesn’t help solve the problem, but it’s comforting. Finn opens his mouth and turns to Kurt with the purpose of complaining until Kurt lets him give up, but when his eyes meet Kurt’s, something stops him in his tracks.  
  
Kurt is looking at Finn with such patient understanding and expectation that something catches in Finn’s chest. Kurt’s hand is still on Finn’s forearm, heavy and warm, and as Finn meets his eyes he smiles a bit, encouraging. Finn gapes, realizations aligning and clicking in his mind as if they had been locked and were suddenly offered the key.  
  
Finn's mind rushes, so much occurring to him in a matter of seconds.  He understands that Kurt isn’t like this for everyone. Kurt can be easily frustrated, even impatient with people; Kurt often has to remind himself that not everyone is going to think and feel the way he does. The fact that Kurt is being so understanding now isn’t really a reflection of his skills as a tutor—though he is actually pretty good—but of something else. Kurt is being this way for  _Finn_ , because he and Finn are bros and friends and—yeah, they probably love each other a little bit.  
  
That thought sparks a chain reaction, kind of like the chemical reactions he’s been trying to balance and whoa—Finn has been thinking about homework for way too long. Each insight provokes the next until he’s overwhelmed: Finn and Kurt at school, in Glee, at home… little moments and small gestures and unsolicited kindnesses. They fall on Finn, rushing at him like raindrops in an unexpected storm: collecting, level rising until he is up to his ankles, his waist, his neck. He waits for the deluge to end, waits for the weight of the feeling to subside so that his lungs can expand and he can breathe again. It doesn’t; Finn finds himself completely underwater.  
  
So that’s how Finn finds out. He sits at his kitchen table, hands flat on the tabletop with his homework totally forgotten in the space between them. He looks into his stepbrother’s eyes, empty of breath, and thinks  _I’ve never loved anyone like I love you_.  
  
\---  
  
The problem with realizing that you’re in love with your stepbrother is that nobody can tell that your whole world just tilted a little and you’re having trouble finding balance again. As much as he feels fundamentally altered by the discovery, Finn knows that it isn’t written on his forehead, nor is he wearing a t-shirt that says “Brother Lover” or “Sexual Awakening” or whatever else is happening. Because while Kurt may be a guy and Finn’s never really been into guys, Finn suddenly starts noticing how  _hot_  Kurt is all the time and damn; how had he not noticed before?  
  
Finn does his best to go on about his life normally.  He goes to school, prepares numbers for Glee, attends basketball practice, and asks Kurt for homework help, just like he did before. The difference is that now he finds himself kind of distracted. Well, okay… maybe Finn has  _always_  been a little distracted, but it’s even worse. Even when Kurt isn’t around, little things remind Finn of him like,  _all_  the time. One afternoon Finn sees a [commercial](http://youtu.be/zvlLAnw4RjAI) on TV with a cat that knows how to massage—Finn  _needs_  that cat—and it reminds him of that time when Kurt almost wanted a kitten.  
  
 _“While I appreciate their sensuous nature and fierce independence, I have also come to realize that they shed. A lot. I don’t want to have to carry around a lint roller wherever I go! Although it would give me an excuse to buy that Marc Jacobs shoulder bag…”_  
  
Finn remembers and smiles to himself, but there’s a sadness there, too. He feels like his soul is a sweater that keeps getting pulled and snagged on something, and that something is Kurt—unapologetic and razor-sharp. Finn doesn’t know what to do about it because the person he always takes his sweater snags to  _is_  Kurt, and while this snag isn’t literal, Finn wishes that he could take his soul-sweater to Kurt anyway. Kurt always knows what to do about these kinds of things.  
  
Finn sighs heartily and scrubs his face with his hands. It’s been a week since The Realization—the event is so momentous that it’s capitalized in his head—and Finn isn’t sure he can deal with this by himself. He considers talking to Rachel about it, but he’s afraid to hurt her feelings; they just split up about a month ago, and she would be crushed to know that he’s gotten over her so quickly. Besides, she has this odd fascination with idea of Finn and Kurt making out, so... yeah, bad idea.  
  
Finn wonders if the guys from Glee could help, but he’s kind of afraid of what they’ll say. He’s not concerned so much about the whole apparently-I’m-kinda-gay issue; he figures that they probably got past any hang-ups with gayness last year. He is mostly worried that they’ll judge him for wanting  _Kurt_. First of all, Kurt is his  _stepbrother_ , and most of the time they refer to each other without even using the word ‘step’. Secondly, pretty much everyone in the Glee club is rooting for Kurt to get with Blaine.  
  
Stupid Blaine. Finn gets it… sorta. Blaine’s pretty good-looking, polite—Kurt  _loves_  that—and he’s a good singer. But he’s also short and kind of a know-it-all. Finn’s pretty sure that Blaine’s dependency on hair gel could qualify him for an episode of  _Intervention_ , but whatever. Blaine is decent, charming, one-hundred-percent-out-of-the-closet-gay, and Kurt  _likes him_. Finn is pretty sure he could never compete, better hair or not.  
  
Finn stares at the TV without watching it, and when he looks at the clock he concludes that he's been not-watching TV for a time long enough to be considered worrisome. He knows that he can either suffer in silence, hoping that one day he’ll figure it out on his own, or he can suck it up and ask for help. Suffering sucks, so asking for advice is clearly the better choice, but he’s already established that he can’t ask any of his friends. Even if he left out who he had feelings for, the gossip machine would work on overdrive until they either figured it out or made something up and he didn’t want that, for him  _or_  Kurt. He rules out Mr. Schue for the same reason. People would surely see them talking, and they would ask what they were talking about; Finn would be hounded, and the last thing he wants is to be hounded about something like this.  
  
He definitely doesn’t want to ask his mom, either. He knows that she loves to help him with life stuff, but he still feels weird about it. She would ask all sorts of questions about his  _feelings_ , which would be okay except that at least some of his feelings about Kurt are pretty sexy and he prefers to keep his sexy feelings in a different room than his mom. Just because he’s in love with his stepbrother doesn’t mean he’s a  _weirdo_.  
  
Finn needs to ask someone who is his friend, but isn’t one of his high school friends. He figures a grown-up would be good, because they probably know more about love and sex and stuff. When he thinks of all the people he trusts who are grown-ups, his friend, and not a teacher at his school, he can only come up with one person who falls within all categories.  
  
Some people would probably think it’s weird to ask gay love advice from your straight stepfather who also happens to be the biological father of the dude you love. Finn, though, is kind of tired of worrying all the time about what other people think. Besides, he’s pretty sure he can avoid the subject of  _who_  if he talks hypothetically. Finn nods once in decision, pulls himself up off the couch, and finds Burt at the kitchen table—where this whole thing started, Finn thinks—reading the newspaper.  
  
Finn walks in with enough purpose that it makes Burt look up from his reading. “Hey, kiddo,” Burt greets him. He smiles big without showing his teeth. Kurt smiles like that all the time.  
  
“Hey!” Finn yells too loudly to be casual. He falls with a thump into the chair diagonally across from Burt. Burt must notice Finn’s odd behavior because he pulls a face.  
  
Finn considers making small talk, but he knows Burt will see through it anyway. He’s pretty good at detecting BS. “Hey, Burt.” Finn looks down as he says it, chickening out of making eye contact. He really wishes he had something to do with his hands. “Can I talk to you about some stuff? Like, important stuff?”  
  
Burt is the picture of serenity. “Sure, buddy. What’s up?”  
  
Finn fidgets a little. Burt is a cool guy and Finn’s never  _really_  been scared of him, though Finn did have a couple of nightmares after that one time in the basement. Nevertheless he can see how people might be intimidated; Burt’s attention is intense and inescapable. It’s okay though, because before he had the guts to walk in here, Finn practiced everything he’s going to say. He has every line planned out so that he can bring up the subject smoothly, avoid any suspicious details, get the advice he needs, and then get the hell out of there.   
  
Unfortunately, all of his plans fly out the window. He takes one look at Burt, gets sucked in by his frankness, and says, “I’m in love with Kurt.”  
  
The second it’s out of his mouth, Finn can feel his own physical reaction to what he’s just said. His eyes are impossibly wide—probably even wider than that time he watched Puck stuff an entire orange in his mouth—and his blood feels cold in his veins. He continues looking at Burt, who looks as stunned as Finn feels, his forehead creased with lines from his raised eyebrows. When Burt doesn’t move or say anything, Finn panics and starts to get up.  
  
“No, no, no,” Burt says, grabbing at Finn’s sleeve and yanking, guiding Finn back into his seat. “You’re not gettin’ off that easy.” Finn freaks out a little bit, trying to wrap his mind around what he just said. Meanwhile Burt just  _keeps looking at him_. After a moment of silence—or possibly an eternity, Finn isn’t really sure—Burt quietly asks, “D’you mean it?”  
  
Finn wishes he could be composed and manly like Burt and answer the question with the gravity that it deserves. Instead he can’t really risk opening his mouth for fear he might cry, so he just nods shakily.  
  
“Hey…” Burt grasps Finn’s upper arm firmly with his hand, like Finn might run away if he doesn’t. “It’s okay.”  
  
“Do you hate me?” Finn doesn’t realize he was worried about it until he asks. He doesn’t  _really_  think Burt would hate him, but suddenly he feels like Burt’s answer is very important.  
  
“Hate you?” Burt huffs a quiet laugh and it breaks some of the tension. “Why would I hate you?”  
  
Finn focuses on a knot in the wood of the tabletop, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I know it’s not, ya know,  _bad_  or anything, but I just feel so  _guilty_.” Finn breathes. “Is that normal?”  
  
“To love someone and feel guilty about it? No, not in my experience. ‘M not sure what you have to feel guilty about, though.”  
  
Finn thinks about it. How do you take something so big and put it into words? Words have never been Finn’s strong suit. “I don’t know. It’s like… I don’t feel like I have a right to feel this way, ya know? For  _lots_ of reasons. A part of me knows I had my chance a long time ago, and I didn’t want it. To want it now, now that he’s over me and we’re friends and freaking  _brothers_ , just seems wrong. It’s unfair.”  
  
Burt crosses his arms and sits back in his chair studying Finn. “Well, these kinds of things are almost never fair, and they certainly aren’t easy, but that doesn’t mean that you’ve done anything wrong.”  
  
Finn nods to himself, more in acknowledgement than in belief. “So you’re not mad?”  
  
“No.” Burt answers like the answer is obvious and shakes his head. “Surprised? Yeah, kinda. But I’m not mad or whatever you think I should be.”  
  
Finn exhales so hard that he slumps even farther over the table. He considers protesting, explaining to Burt all the reasons he could be angry. He doesn’t, though; he’s pretty sure Burt gets it anyway. “And you don’t think it’s weird?”  
  
Burt shrugs. “You can’t help you love, kid. And I can’t blame you for fallin’ for Kurt. He’s pretty great.”  
  
Finn nods, this time with complete sincerity. “Yeah. He is.”  
  
Finn can feel Burt considering him. He wonders what he sees. “Thanks for tellin’ me,” Burt says suddenly, leaning forward again and resting his arms on the table. The fact that he can still look Finn in the eye is reassuring.  
  
“So?” Finn shrugs his shoulders.  
  
“So what?”  
  
“So what do I do? You’ve gotta help me! I feel like I’m losing my mind!” Finn plants his elbows on the table and buries his face in his hands.  
  
Burt laughs, big and bright. “I’m pretty sure you’re  _supposed_  to feel like that.” Finn can see through his fingers that Burt is watching him. When Burt decides that Finn is serious, he speaks again. “This is really tearin’ you up, isn’t it?”  
  
Finns sighs. “Yeah.”  
  
“Well then, I guess you gotta decide what you want. You think it’s something that is gonna pass? And more important, is that what you want?”  
  
Finn drops his hands to the surface of the table and looks at Burt. It’s an important question. Does he want to get over Kurt? It would be easier if he did; simpler. On the other hand, the way he feels with Kurt is something entirely new. It’s exciting and confusing and dramatic, yeah, but it’s also… secure, solid, familiar. He’s pretty sure that  _that_  is what this is supposed to feel like. Finn opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He sits with his jaw open, waiting for the answer to become clear, but he’s got nothing.  
  
“Hey…” Burt leans forward and puts his hand on Finn’s arm again. “It’s not something you hafta answer right now. It’s not a race.” Burt glances at the wall clock behind Finn’s head. “Aw, geez. When’d it get so late?” He pats Finn and stands up, folding the paper to take it with him. “I hate to run out on you, bud, but they’re expecting me down at the shop. You gonna be okay?”  
  
Finn just nods blankly.  
  
“A’right. Gimme a call if you need me.” He pats Finn again as he passes to leave the room.  
  
“Okay… thanks.” Finn replies flatly, but Burt’s already gone.  
  
\---  
  
Finn considers Burt’s questions very carefully over the next few days. Whenever he has a minute, he thinks about it… and Kurt would probably be grossed out if he knew that Finn thinks about him in the bathroom. Whatever; it’s important. Finn isn’t sleeping well and he’s afraid he never will again unless he just comes to a decision already.  
  
Finn knows that smart people sometimes make pros-and-cons lists to decide things—he’s seen it on TV—so he gives it a try. He gets a blank sheet of notebook paper and draws a vertical line down the center, labeling the left side “Pro” and the right side “Con.” He considers titling the sheet “Telling Kurt I Love Him”, but decides against it. For one thing he could  _never_  forget about what he was trying to settle, and furthermore if anyone ever found it, he might die… because if embarrassment didn’t kill him, Kurt probably would.  
  
In the end, he doesn’t actually write anything on the sheet. It feels wrong to fill the right column up with cons while leaving the left side blank, but unfortunately all he can come up with is reasons why telling Kurt is a bad, bad idea. Instead he just keeps track of the reasons in his head, deciding that when he comes up with some solid pros, he’ll actually bother to write it all down. After a couple of days, it’s starting to look dire for the pro-side, until Kurt floats into Finn’s room one day with a story that has Kurt laughing musically in his delight and disbelief, making Finn say to himself,  _Screw the list_.  
  
\---  
  
Burt bends at the waist as he disassembles the car’s engine. He’s kind of grimy and sweaty, so it’s been a busy day. Finn wonders if maybe it isn’t a good time and that he should try again tomorrow, or at least wait until Burt gets home. Then he remembers why he didn’t just do that in the first place: Kurt is at home and Finn really doesn’t want to risk him overhearing. Finn hesitates several feet from Burt; before it’s too late to back out, Burt looks up and catches Finn’s eye. He looks happy to see Finn, so maybe it isn’t such a terrible time after all.  
  
“Hey, buddy!” Burt withdraws from under the engine hood, grabbing a towel from his pocket and wiping the grease from his hands. “You here to help?”  
  
Finn shuffles his feet nervously. “No, not really… but I can help you if you need it! I’ll just go grab my coveralls…”  
  
Burt waves his hand. “You don’t have to. I just thought maybe you were here to make some cash ‘s all.”  
  
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something. Maybe in your office?”  
  
“Sure. I’ve got a few.” He gestures with his head to the back of the building.  
  
Hands white-knuckle tight on the straps of his backpack, Finn leads the way. Even though Burt says he doesn’t hate him and that he  _wouldn’t_ , Finn is still nervous. It’s one thing to be confused and a completely different other thing to walk into something with his eyes open. As he walks Finn wonders if Burt was hoping that Finn would decide to get over it; that he’d figured it all out and he’d been mistaken. As much as he loves Kurt, he loves Burt too and doesn’t want to disappoint him.  
  
Finn enters the office but doesn’t sit; he’s too keyed up to sit. Burt follows him in and closes the door behind them. “What’s on your mind, kid?”  
  
“Remember the thing I told you about the other day?” Finn does his best to brace himself. “The thing with Kurt?”  
  
Burt doesn’t move or give anything away. “I think I’d feel better if you said it out loud.”  
  
“About how I’m in love with him.” Finn stands firm and maintains eye contact, even though it’s hard.  
  
“It’s a hard thing to forget.”  
  
“You told me that I needed to decide what I wanted. That I needed to decide if it’s something I want to get over. Well, I don’t. I don’t want to get over it. In fact, I kinda wanna get under it.”  
  
Finn has never seen Burt’s eyebrows rise so quickly. Burt shifts his weight and his jaw drops open, but Finn doesn’t want to give him a chance to speak.  
  
“Wait!” Finn interjects before Burt can get the wrong idea. “That’s not what I meant! I just meant that maybe I want him to know… not that—oh, god.”  
  
Finn lands gracelessly in the chair in front of Burt’s desk. He’s kicking himself already; how can he expect Burt to not want to kill him if he’s going to insinuate dirty sex things?  
  
Finn is looking anywhere but at Burt when he hears Burt laugh. It’s not his  _Three Stooges_  laugh; it’s not even his laughing-at-his wife’s-jokes laugh. It sounds a little more awkward than that.  
  
“Calm down, kid. Don’t have a coronary. I have it on good authority that Kurt would never forgive either of us for scaring him like  _that_  again.” Finn thinks a coronary might be kinder, but Burt ignores his discomfort. “Let me help you out,” Burt begins. “If I’m hearin’ you right, you’re sayin’ that you might wanna give this thing with Kurt a shot. Am I wrong?”  
  
Finn shakes his head. “I’ve thought about it, and there are plenty of reasons why I should drop it… try to forget it, but there’s one really important reason not to.” He makes his voice as quiet and serious as possible. “It’s never been like this before. I thought maybe I’d found something real with Rachel—and maybe I did—but it was  _nothing_  like this. I don’t know why this happened or why it happened  _now_ , but I can’t ignore it. And I don’t wanna just pass it up because it’s not easy.”  
  
Burt is quiet, studying Finn for long minutes. Finn doesn’t fill the silence; he has nothing more to say. Burt pulls his cap off, holding it by the brim and scratching the top of his head with the same hand before pulling it back on tightly. He looks at Finn decidedly. “Okay.”  
  
Finn wasn’t sure what he was expecting Burt’s reaction to be, but he thought it would be more than one word. “Okay?”  
  
Burt hums in affirmation, standing up from where he’d been leaning against the edge of his desk. “You sound like you’ve made up your mind and I can’t blame ya. I’ve been where you are now, and ignoring it isn’t something anyone should hafta do.” Burt sighs. “I don’t know how this is gonna go down with Kurt, but I’m not gonna object to you two figuring it out. But if you two become an item, I want to know about it, ‘cause you’ll have to follow the same house rules with him that you would have to follow with anyone, ya get me?”  
  
“Yeah. Absolutely.”  
  
“Well, I better get back to it… unless you’ve got some other bombshell to drop on me.” Finn shakes his head furiously. Burt slaps Finn on the shoulder as he heads for the door of his office. Finn knows the gesture is friendly, but Burt hits  _hard_. As his hand lands on the doorknob, Burt turns back to Finn before exiting. “You gonna tell him tonight?”  
  
Finn’s stricken. He honestly hadn’t thought about it. He’d spent all his mental energy trying to decide  _if_  he was going to tell Kurt, and it occurs to him now that he’d never even considered how and when he would tell him. “I… I don’t know. I guess I haven’t gotten that far.”  
  
Burt looks sympathetic. “Well, take your time and do it right. It’s all you can do.” Burt hesitates briefly before disappearing out the door.  
  
\---  
  
Finn admits that forethought doesn’t come easily to him. Kurt though, he’s a planner. Kurt likes to allow for every contingency so that no matter what happens he is prepared. Finn respects that. He feels like if he’s going to do this whole confessing-his-feelings thing properly, he’s going to need to be more like Kurt. He needs a plan.  
  
Kurt once tried to teach Finn how to make crêpes. Finn was stoked; you can’t buy frozen crêpes like you can frozen waffles, and it kind of sucks having to rely on other people for fresh ones. Kurt demonstrated all the steps as they went along before writing them down as Finn tried for himself. Things went well that day; Kurt had seemed pleased with Finn’s eagerness and ability to follow. Kurt stuck the instructions on the fridge with a magnet, so that if Finn ever craved crêpes in the middle of the night, he would never wake Kurt up for them  _ever, ever again_.  
  
The problem is that things are really easy to do when you have someone experienced watching to warn you when you’re about to go wrong. When that person is gone though, well, you end up forgetting to spray your stepbrother’s custom-ordered crêpe pan and all your crêpes get stuck, leaving you to eat mangled, rubbery, overdone chunks of what should be light, delicious crêpe.  
  
Romance is like crêpes, Finn figures. It looks easy when someone is showing you how to do it, and what you get for your trouble is  _so_  worth it. The problem is that Finn is  _Finn_ , and he has no better instinct for romance than he does for making crêpes.   
  
Rachel had made it so easy, giving him lists of pre-approved gifts for every occasion. She’d told him when he was expected to take her out, how fancy it was supposed to be, and what he was supposed to wear; all Finn had to do was not forget to show up. When he had tried to do something nice for Rachel on his own, he’d had his mom’s help cooking… and he’d forgotten that Rachel didn’t eat meat. If she had ever found out, it would have been a disaster.   
  
And Kurt  _deserves_  crêpes. Kurt makes Finn happy in ways that Finn didn’t know were possible: big, overwhelming ways and little, hidden ways that feel private. He’s warm and he’s  _Kurt_  and he’s never wanted Finn to be anything but the best version of himself. So yeah… Kurt deserves crêpes. If Finn is going to tell Kurt that he loves him and even dare to hope that Kurt might feel something back, then Finn is going to have to make Kurt the best, fluffiest, Nutella-iest crêpes  _ever_ … even though he has no idea how to go about that.  
  
Maybe it’s because of the crêpe metaphor, but Finn decides that food is the answer. People do romantic things over food all the time. Besides, Kurt would be super impressed if Finn cooked something for him.  _Romance is all about the gesture,_  Kurt said to him once when Finn was in the doghouse with Rachel. And is there a better gesture than trying to do something you suck at to impress the person that you love? Finn thinks not.  
  
Finn knows what Kurt likes to eat; he’s just not sure how to spell any of it. Kurt always tells the family what he’s made for dinner, but it’s almost always got an indecipherable name that makes Finn unsure if he wants to eat it. Kurt never disappoints though; everything he makes is  _amazing_  and it’s usually not very weird anyway. Apparently it’s just that French people have foreign names for everything.  
  
While Finn wishes he could make something on par with what Kurt might make, he doesn’t want to bite off more than he can chew. Instead, he DVRs the episode of  _Rachael Ray’s 30 Minute Meals_  in which she makes a [Shepherd’s Pie](http://www.rachaelray.com/recipe.php?recipe_id=864). It looks good; it’s just lamb and potatoes, but it’s all together in a dish, so that makes it fancier.  
  
The problem is that when your whole meal is in  _one single dish_ , screwing it up means that you have nothing left to offer. When Finn pulls his Shepherd’s Pie from the oven, the top looks okay, but when he looks under the layer of potatoes, the middle just looks  _wrong_. Finn rewinds the recording and listens to Rachael again, trying to determine if he had missed something. He had. Rachael had skimmed over the part in which she browned her meat, the magic of television allowing her to have some already on hand. Finn had also skimmed over it—as in, he hadn’t done it  _at all_ —meaning that he has a runny, bloody, unsanitary mess under his fluffy, well-browned potatoes.  
  
Finn tries not to panic. He’s in the middle of not-panicking when Burt and his mom walk past the kitchen. They must smell something—like his desperation—because they come back to check out what he’s doing.  
  
Carole walks in smiling at Finn with Burt trailing behind her. “Hey, honey! That looks good.”  
  
“Yeah,” Finn grumbles. “On the outside.”  
  
Carole must not hear him because she continues. “But it’s date night, remember? Burt and I are going out, so we won’t be here to enjoy it!”  
  
“Actually, Mom… I made this for me and Kurt. I kinda wanted to do something special for him.” Finn doesn’t mention that it’s ruined. If he does he knows his mom will offer to stay and fix it. He doesn’t want to ruin her plans; besides, if he’s going to win Kurt, he’s going to do it on his own.  
  
Carole makes a silly, sappy face, reaches up on her toes, and kisses Finn on his cheek. “Well, I think that is so sweet! I’m sure he’ll love it.” Carole looks around the kitchen for something, and when she doesn’t find it she trots back into the living room with a quick, “Be right back!”  
  
Burt looks at Finn with an indiscernible scrutiny. He walks over to the Shepherd’s Pie resting on the stove, leans over it, and sniffs. “So.” He leans his hip against the counter, looking a little smug. “Tonight’s the night, huh?”  
  
Finn huffs, starting to feel a little panicky. “Well, that was the plan, but I ruined the food. I don’t have time to remake it before Kurt gets home, and I have no idea what to do.”  
  
“Hey, don’t worry,” Burt soothes. “You guys can order a pizza; it’s no big deal.”  
  
“But it is a big deal!” Finn slams his hands on the counter hard enough to hear the clap. “Kurt deserves for everything to be perfect… and I can’t even handle dinner!” Finn can feel the echo of his too-loud voice in the stillness of the room and instantly regrets it.  
  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa…” Burt comes over to Finn with his hands up, like he’s approaching a snorting bull. “Why are you so upset?”  
  
Finn slumps against the counter, his ire draining at Burt’s expression of concern. He isn’t sure how to answer the question. How is he supposed to tell Burt that he’s afraid that if his offering isn’t good enough, it means  _he_  isn’t good enough? “What if this is a sign? What if I tell Kurt how I feel and he rejects me and it screws everything up? I mean, he has every reason to…”  
  
“Stop right there.” Burt’s voice brooks no argument and his face is stern. “Listen to me. You’re scared right now; I get it. This ain’t easy, no matter who you are, and if you decide you don’t want to go through with this, then that’s okay. But I think you’ll regret it if you don’t. And to be honest with you, I think Kurt should get the chance to decide for himself. I’m not going to pretend that the two of you is the ideal set-up, but I’ve been payin’ attention. You look at him the way he  _should_  be looked at, and it doesn’t matter if you tell him over fancy food you made yourself as long as you look at him like that when you tell him.”  
  
Finn can’t do anything but blink. He tries to figure out how to respond, but as he gapes, Carole walks in the room with her purse in hand. “I’m ready! How do I look?” She spins around so that her skirt flutters.  
  
“You’re beautiful.” Burt says it like it’s easy and obvious. Finn envies him.  
  
“Yeah, Mom. You look really good.” Finn smiles at her and hopes she doesn’t read any of the anxiety on his face.  
  
Burt turns back to pat Finn on the shoulder once before leaning in with a conspiratorial, “Good luck.” He then joins his wife, sweeping her out of the kitchen with his hand low on her back.  
  
Finn considers what Burt said. He could still change his mind. He could still decide to just give this up, to lock his feelings away until Kurt moves to New York and Finn can get over him. Finn thinks that maybe that’s the best thing to do: let Kurt go and not burden him with this; because that’s what this is, isn’t it? A burden? Finn senses a presence in the room, and when he looks over his shoulder, Kurt is standing a few feet away, considering him with a tilted head. He’s home right on time.  
  
“Hey, Finn,” Kurt says, stretching out the vowels. “What’s all this?”  
  
Nervously, Finn starts gathering dishes and putting them in the sink as he runs the tap, ignoring his ruined casserole sitting on the stove like a taunt. Kurt though crosses over to the still hot food and studies it closely. He looks pleased and maybe even proud. “Shepherd’s Pie? Did you make this?”  
  
Finn takes in Kurt’s expression. It’s exactly the one he wanted to see. Too bad it’s all a lie. “Yeah, but I screwed it up,” Finn confesses sadly, turning back to the sink. “I didn’t brown the meat before I put it in and now it’s all raw and gross. I’d throw it away, but I’m still too weirded out to deal with it.”  
  
“Wow,” Kurt says. Finn isn’t facing him but he can hear the dish scraping against the trivets on the stove. “This is ambitious, Finn. I’m impressed.”  
  
Finn scoffs. He’s being pouty and petulant and he knows it, but he can’t stop himself. “Impressed that I can suck so badly at so many things?”  
  
Before Finn can kick himself for his hysterics, Kurt is right behind him. He nudges Finn, trying to get him to turn around. Finn resists, but not for long. His hands are dripping, so he grabs a dishtowel and dries them off, avoiding Kurt’s eyes. Kurt stills Finn’s nervous drying with a single touch to the hand. Their eyes meet.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Kurt asks  _so_  gently. Finn looks away, unsure of what to say and feeling like he might actually, literally cry. Kurt doesn’t let him off the hook. “Come on; spill it. You seem really upset… Is it just about the dinner? Because I’ve ruined plenty of things, especially the first time I made them.”  
  
Finn shakes his head, staring down at his shoes.  
  
“Then what is it? Do you want to talk about it?” Kurt gestures toward the fridge. “I can heat us up some milk…”  
  
Despite being as low as a whisper, the words still burst out with considerable force. “I love you.”  _Aw crap._    
  
Kurt’s brow wrinkles in confusion, but then he smiles amusedly. “I love you, too.” He huffs a tiny laugh and meets Finn’s eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t eat any of Puck’s quote-unquote candy, did you? Because I’m pretty sure that was drugs.”  
  
“No…” Finn puts the dishtowel aside on the counter. “I mean…” He just stares at Kurt. He could still beg out. He could pretend he meant it the same way Kurt had meant it, but he isn’t going to do that. Kurt is too near and Finn is too selfish.  
  
“I…”  _Say it, Finn. Just do it._  
  
Kurt juts his chin forward in an expression of expectation. “Yes?”  
  
“I…”  _…love you. I’m in love with you. Just man up and say it._  “…have feelings for you.” Finn’s hands shake. He’s disappointed that he pulled back at the last minute, but it should be enough; middle ground is better than no ground, he figures.   
  
Kurt’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline and freeze there. Finn has been getting a lot of that lately. “Feelings? What do you mean by ‘feelings’?”  
  
“You know…  _those_  kinds of feelings. Like the ones I had for Rachel, except you know, not  _exactly_  the same…”  
  
Kurt holds still, looking at Finn with a disbelieving look. His vocal tone is flat. “You’re kidding.”  
  
“No.” Finn shakes his head but keeps eye contact with Kurt. “No, I’m not.”  
  
Kurt is silent and deathly still. Finn can see Kurt’s defensive barrier rise as if it were a tangible thing. It hurts, but it isn’t surprising.  
  
“Kurt, listen… I know you don’t feel that way about me anymore. I get it… you like Blaine now and that’s cool. He’s a good guy. I just had to tell you anyway, because not telling you was starting to feel a lot like lying.” Finn slows down, breathing in and out. “I don’t expect anything though, okay? I just… I needed you to know.”  
  
Kurt doesn’t move. His face doesn’t give anything away, but his arms are wrapped tight around himself and it’s tense. Finn feels kind of sick.  
  
“Okay.” Finn decides that retreat is his best option. If he were Kurt, he’d need a minute to process everything. “I’m gonna…” He points at the doorway to the living room and begins heading toward it. As he passes Kurt though, he stops. He hesitates for a moment before turning to Kurt briefly and wrapping his arms around him in a quick, sharp embrace. It lasts for less than a second, just long enough to squeeze once, before he pulls away and walks out the door. By the time he gets to his room, Finn’s hands are shaking and he feels like he could puke, but he feels kind of brave, too. He put himself out there and it was scary, but he did it. Now it’s up to Kurt what he’s going to do with it.  
  
\---  
  
By the time Finn rolls out of bed the next morning, he knows he hasn’t given himself much time before he needs to leave for school. He runs around getting dressed, passably brushing his teeth, and finding his shoes. He flies down the stairs calling for Kurt as he runs, but Kurt doesn’t reply. Finn looks out the window and Kurt’s car is still there, so he isn’t quite sure what to think. He and Kurt usually ride together unless they have separate plans after school, in which case Kurt takes his Navigator. But if the Navigator is still in the driveway…  
  
Finn grabs his bag and heads for the kitchen, thinking that maybe Kurt is grabbing some breakfast. As he does though, he sees a crisp, white sheet of paper stuck on the door. It’s a piece of Kurt’s stationery with the fancy “KEH” at the top and a brief note in his script: “Riding to school with Mercedes today. –Kurt”  
  
Finn stares at the hastily written words for a minute while he processes them. Kurt’s avoiding him. Finn tries to be surprised or at least offended, but he’s not, not after Kurt’s reaction in the kitchen. Finn pulls the note off the door and sticks it in his pocket, rushing to the driveway and into his truck.  
  
It’s not unusual for Finn to go the whole day without seeing Kurt. They don’t share any classes except for Glee, and that’s after school. It’s Friday, meaning they don’t even have Glee today, so if Kurt wants to avoid Finn, he’ll have no trouble at all. The thought almost makes Finn skip lunch, until he remembers that the cafeteria is serving tamales and, despite what one would expect from cafeteria food, they are actually  _really_  good.  
  
Surrounded by his football friends, Finn eats his tamales and does his best  _not_  to think about Kurt and the certain idiot he made of himself the previous night. Puck and Sam are arm wrestling and talking smack which is pretty diverting considering how evenly matched they are. Finn is fully engrossed until he hears his phone chime in his pocket. It’s a text from Kurt:  _Last night. The Shepherd’s Pie… did you do that for me?_  
  
Finn’s surprised at the contact. He taps out a reply:  _yes._  
  
Puck and Sam are starting to look strained now, their faces tense and a little sweaty. The contest is starting to look less friendly and more deadly serious. Finn’s phone chimes again:  _Why?_  
  
Well, that’s the sixty-four million dollar question or whatever. What can he say?  _I had a crazy notion that maybe if I could be what you deserve you could possibly love me_? It may be true, but he’s not sure that he wants Kurt to understand the true level of his patheticness. He could lie, but he doesn’t want to. Kurt makes him wish he never had to lie.   
  
Finn taps back,  _I wanted to do something nice for you like you deserve. and I wanted to tell you about well you know. I just wanted to do it right._  He hits send and places his phone on the table, waiting for Kurt’s response. Puck and Sam are so red in the face that they might burst the blood vessels in their eyes; normally that would make Finn laugh, but he’s too distracted. He keeps glancing at his phone, but when the end-of-period bell rings, there’s still no response.  
  
It’s last period—Spanish class, and thanks to Señor Martinez, Finn may actually be  _learning_  something—when a reply from Kurt finally comes.  _Sorry about this morning. Can I ride home with you?_  
  
Finn sighs with relief and his heart speeds inexplicably. It really shouldn’t be a big deal—Kurt rides with him all the time—but it is. Kurt isn’t too scared or weirded out to be near Finn; Finn feels like a rock was removed from atop his chest. He replies, careful not to get caught texting:  _yeah, dude!! i’m in the north lot_.  
  
When the bell rings, Finn ducks around people to race to his truck, making an effort to collect himself before he gets there. It’s just  _Kurt_  and Kurt doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge, but Finn still feels like he could still screw this up, so he’s going to play it cool. It’s just one brother giving another brother a ride and oh god, should he really be calling Kurt his brother in his head when he’s feeling like  _this_?  
  
Despite Finn’s rushing, Kurt beats Finn to the truck. Kurt turns to Finn as he approaches and gives a small, seemingly casual wave. Finn runs up and stops dead a few feet in front of Kurt.  
  
Kurt doesn’t give Finn a chance to say anything. “Finn, I want to apologize for—”  
  
Finn stops him, cutting him off and gesturing wildly. “No, Kurt. You don’t have to do that.”  
  
Kurt replies quickly. “Yes, I do. I know that—“  
  
“Kurt.” Finn puts as much authority and gravity into his voice as he can. “It’s alright. I don’t blame you for… needing some time, okay? I just need to know one thing: we’re okay, right? Like, I don’t need to move out of the house or anything? Because I’m not sure I can afford rent in the good part of town, and—”  
  
Kurt’s startled laugh is bright and genuine. It’s such a  _good_  sound. If there was any tension, they just broke through it. “Yes, we’re fine. You don’t need to move out.”  
  
Finn sighs, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders. “Thank god, dude. I wasn’t sure how I was gonna swing that.” He stands for a moment, scanning Kurt’s face for a sign of discomfort and not finding any. “You ready to go?”  
  
Kurt nods and moves around to the passenger side of the truck. They both get in and head for home. Their conversation isn’t unlike what it would normally be: Kurt recounts the day’s drama with a flair that makes it much more entertaining than it actually is while Finn mostly listens. At a stoplight, Finn turns to Kurt, watching as Kurt makes animated hand gestures along with the story.  
  
“I thought that they might literally fight over it. Santana was being  _Santana_ , bragging about her home’s proximity to Lima Heights and asking if Tina knows the Spanish word for ‘razorblades.’ And Tina! You know, sweet, little I-cry-at-the-drop-of-a-birdcage-veil Tina? She was in Santana’s face, talking about dark rituals and magic which I am certain she doesn’t actually do. If I hadn’t intervened, I think it would have escalated to hair-pulling.”  
  
Finn smiles. “What did you say?”  
  
“I told them that they aren’t going to settle anything by being brutes. If they want to know whose significant other is the better dancer, they should just make Mike and Brittany have a dance-off like reasonable people.”  
  
“Whoa… are they gonna do it? ‘Cuz that would be pretty cool.”  
  
Kurt scoffs. “I have no idea. I know that neither Mike nor Brittany care which one of them is better; they aren’t that competitive. On the other hand, they would do anything to make their girlfriends happy.” Kurt shrugs. “I figure if anything goes down, I’ll be getting a text.”  
  
The light turns green and Finn starts driving again, his attention turned back to the road in front of him. “Well if you do, don’t forget to tell me. I wouldn’t wanna miss it.”  
  
Kurt doesn’t reply; he just hums an acknowledgement, whipping out his phone and going through something. Finn glances at him, just for a second, before turning back to the road. “You look really nice today, by the way.” He tries to sound sure when he says it, but it comes out sounding shier than he intends. “I like your vest.”   
  
With his eyes on the road, Finn can only see Kurt with his peripheral vision, so he notices Kurt’s hands stop scrolling on his phone’s touch screen but doesn’t see his facial expression. He’s kind of afraid to look. Kurt is silent for a moment before coolly replying, “Thank you.”  
  
\---  
  
Finn didn’t really expect for Kurt to suddenly decide to spend the weekend with him or anything, but he didn’t expect Blaine’s car to already be in the driveway when they got home either. When they drive up and park alongside him, Blaine turns and smiles brightly at them both.  
  
Kurt waves at Blaine and jumps out of the truck before Finn can even shut the engine off. They don’t hug or anything, but they both look really excited to see each other. Finn climbs out of the car to find them both already headlong into a conversation.  
  
“After I got your text, I blew off the rest of the day. I changed, packed a bag, and jumped in the car. When Kurt Hummel says he has an emergency and needs me right away, I figure it’s got to be more important than fencing practice, right?”  
  
Kurt freezes solid with a look of obvious discomfort. “Kurt?” Blaine inquires, touching his fingers to Kurt’s arm. “Is something wrong?”  
  
Kurt glances back at Finn, so Finn looks away quickly. Finn carefully studies his keys like he’s having trouble remembering which one is the right one to the front door but knows that Kurt can see right through the charade. Kurt grabs Blaine and drags him to the entrance, digging out his own keys. Finn follows—he’s not going to stand around outside and make it  _obvious_  that he can see what’s going on—but tries not to stand too close to either of them. “Not now, Blaine,” Kurt admonishes in a stage whisper.  
  
Kurt gets the door open and pulls Blaine through it, Finn watching them as they immediately head up the stairs. They walk so closely that their elbows brush, comfortable and seemingly intimate. They look like partners.  
  
Kurt is still rushing Blaine, directing him toward his room. He stops at the top of the stairs and turns. “We’ll be in my room if you need us. It’s Carole’s turn for dinner, right? Let her know she can come get us if she needs any help.” Kurt doesn’t wait for a reply. He turns quickly, heading down the hall and out of Finn’s eye-line.  
  
Finn stands motionless at the bottom of the stairs, feeling grief all the way to his bones. He’s not exactly sure why Kurt needed to talk to Blaine so urgently and every reason he can come up with is discomforting. He needs a distraction. He throws his bag down next to the couch in the living room before flopping down and violently turning on his Xbox. He  _really_  needs to blow some stuff up.  
  
Enough time passes that he almost forgets that Kurt and Blaine are upstairs doing god-knows-what. Carole comes home with bags of groceries that Finn takes from her, causing her to bestow her proud, pleased smile. Finn is grateful for the approval. He offers to help with dinner too, despite the trauma of the previous night. He remembers what Kurt said about coming to get him and Blaine for help, but Finn doesn’t mention it. He’d rather help with dinner himself than knock on Kurt’s door right now.  
  
Blaine doesn’t always come to their weekly Family Dinners, but he’s been invited before. Considering that he brought a fancy, designer overnight bag, Finn assumes that Blaine is staying for more than just dinner. Finn thinks that it’s probably unfair that Blaine gets to spend the night when Finn’s never gotten to have a girl sleep over, platonic or not. He’s never really minded Blaine staying over before, but now it makes him want to grind his teeth.   
  
Dinner goes pretty well considering the potential for awkwardness. Carole seems thrilled to have them all there, making jokes about how honored she is to have “so many handsome men” around her table. When she moves to get up and take plates to the sink, Blaine jumps up and pulls her chair out for her. Kurt smiles like it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. Finn kind of wants to vomit.  
  
After dinner Burt and Carole retreat to the den for some movie-watching and gross, old-people snuggling. Technically it’s Kurt’s night to do the dishes, but Finn offers to do them instead.  
  
“No, Finn!” Kurt protests. “You did them last night! I’ve got it.”  
  
“But you've got company. I’m sure you guys have… stuff that you were going to do.” Finn hopes he doesn’t sound as hangdog as he feels when he says it. “I don’t mind.”  
  
“Nonsense.” Kurt pushes Finn out of the kitchen with both hands on his back. He’s really strong. “It’s my turn. It’s only fair! Besides, Blaine will help me. Right, Blaine?”  
  
“Yes, sir.” Blaine jokes, taking plates over to the sink and starting the water. “We’ve got it, Finn. Don’t worry.”  
  
Kurt has already turned around and is picking up more dishes. There’s only so much room at the sink, so Finn doesn’t offer to stay and help. They don’t really need him anyway.  
  
\---  
  
Finn doesn’t like to think that he spends that night moping, but he’s not sure there’s another word for it. Kurt and Blaine retreat back to Kurt’s room after doing the dishes, while Burt and Carole spend the evening camped out in the den. Finn doesn’t feel like joining them—he isn’t feeling very personable—so he hides out in his room with a bag of chips and his iPod. Finn is not proud of the melodramatic songs he sings that night.   
  
The next morning, Finn stumbles down the stairs in his t-shirt and boxers in search of sugary cereal. He sits at the breakfast bar, eyes bleary, and pours himself a bowl of Lucky Charms and milk. He keeps his eyes closed when he chews, opening them only to scoop up a bite with the proper cereal to marshmallow ratio. He repeats the process, working through his giant bowl until he opens his eyes for another spoonful and sees Blaine walk up beside him.  
  
Blaine is slightly more alert, but not much. He’s wearing a pair of pin-striped pajama pants and a tank top, forcing Finn to admit begrudgingly to himself that Blaine has really nice arms. Finn dejectedly realizes that Kurt has just spent the whole night with those arms.   
  
“Good morning.” Blaine moves around the kitchen like he lives there, grabbing a spoon and a bowl. He hops up onto the barstool next to Finn and gestures to the cereal and milk on the counter. “Can I?”  
  
Finn wordlessly pushes the cereal box and milk within Blaine’s reach. Blaine fills his bowl and eats with Finn in companionable silence as they become more awake, but the quiet doesn’t last long. “Finn,” Blaine opens, clearing his throat and acting like he has something really important to say. Finn tries not to roll his eyes. “I’m not sure how to broach the subject, so I’m just going to just come out and say it. Kurt told me that you’re feeling a little… confused right now.” Blaine puts a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “I just want you to know that it’s completely normal at our age to question expectations and to test our sexual boundaries.”  
  
Finn pours more cereal into his sugary, left-over milk. “Uh huh.”  
  
Blaine gestures to himself, splaying his fingers across his chest. “I’ve been there myself! I kissed Rachel at that party and it made me question a few things—”  
  
“I remember…” Finn mumbles.  
  
“—but I figured it out. Maybe that’s what you need to do!”  
  
Finn turns to look Blaine in his earnest eyes. “Are you telling me I should make out with Kurt?”  
  
“What? No!” Blaine nearly tips his bowl over in his surprise. “No… that’s not… I think you need to figure this out. I’d be glad to talk to you about it, or maybe you have a counselor at school?”  
  
Finn blinks. “But… you resolved your  _confusion_ ,” Finn lays the snark on as thickly as he can, “by making out with a girl, right? Why don’t you think I can do the same thing?”  
  
“Because it’s not the same Finn! You’re straight!”  
  
“And you’re gay. I really don’t see the difference.”  
  
“Because… when I kissed Rachel, it didn’t hurt anyone. She helped me work through my confliction, and I didn’t hurt her at all. She  _thanked_  me!” Blaine is sounding defensive… and maybe a little protective.  
  
“And you don’t want me to kiss Kurt because… you think it would hurt him?”  
  
Blaine composes himself. “Yes. I do. I understand why Kurt might… inspire these feelings in you, making you think that he’s the only person that can resolve the issue, but I think you’re not considering the ramifications. Say you kiss Kurt and you two experiment. Eventually you’ll realize that he’s not what you want, and when you do, Kurt will be left in the lurch.” Blaine looks at Finn deep in his eyes with a seriousness that most people their age haven’t mastered yet. “You’re his  _brother_ , Finn. He  _loves_  you. Don’t do this to him.”  
  
“I’m in love with him.” It gets easier each time Finn says it.   
  
Blaine’s eyes widen and his jaw drops open a little before he remembers his manners and closes it again. His eyes dart around the room like he’s not positive that he hasn’t fallen into a parallel universe. “Oh.”  
  
Finn stands and takes his now empty bowl to the sink. “Yeah.”  
  
“He didn’t tell me.” Blaine looks sympathetic now.  
  
“Probably because I didn’t stress the ‘in love’ part. I said that I have feelings for him; I didn’t want to push my luck. Don’t… don’t tell him, okay?”  
  
Blaine shakes his head briskly. “I wouldn’t. It’s not my place.”  
  
“Thanks, man.” Finn gives Blaine a nod. Finn knows that he has no real reason to have a problem with Blaine, but it’s hard not to feel bitter. Finn feels like he’s running a race and he’s been watching Blaine’s back from the start.  
  
Finn turns and heads for the door, but apparently Blaine isn’t done. “He doesn’t think you’re serious, you know.” Blaine says it quietly. Finn wonders if it was supposed to be a secret. “About all this. About _him_.”  
  
Finn nods, more to himself than to Blaine. “I know… This came outta nowhere for both of us.” He turns to Blaine again. “I don’t really expect him to suddenly decide he wants me, especially now...”  _Now that he has you_ , Finn thinks. “Maybe one day we’ll look back at this and laugh at how messed up it all is… but it’s not gonna keep me from making sure he knows. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us, ya know?”  
  
Blaine looks at Finn like he’s speaking a language he made up, but Finn doesn’t care. This isn’t about Blaine. Finn trudges back up the stairs, hears the shower running in Kurt and Finn’s shared bathroom as he passes, climbs into bed, and goes back to sleep.

 

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The rest of the weekend goes by in a blur. Blaine eventually goes back home, but not before hugging Kurt goodbye for a long time. Kurt doesn’t reach out to contact Finn in any way, so Finn doesn’t push him. They spend their weekend actively separated from each other, but when they happen to find themselves in the same room, Finn sneaks glances at Kurt. He doesn’t mean it in a creepy way; he’s watching for signs that he is unwelcome or making Kurt uncomfortable. Whenever Finn looks though, Kurt’s eyes are anywhere but at Finn, and his expression is inscrutable. Sometimes when he isn’t paying attention, he thinks he feels Kurt’s eyes on him, but Finn never actually catches him looking.   
  
Days go by, and with every awkward interaction he has with Kurt, Finn feels guiltier. He tries to come up with something he can do to make things less weird but keeps coming up blank, so when his mom suggests a day at the zoo, Finn tries not to sound too excited.  
  
“What do you think, my boys? A day at the zoo… soaking up sunshine, eating junk food? It’ll be great!” Finn can see Kurt wince from the corner of his eye; he knows that if there are two things that will dissuade Kurt from doing something, they’re UV exposure and empty calories. Kurt gets this pained look on his face; it’s the same one he gets when Rachel is on one of her diatribes.  
  
Finn can’t help but think that a family outing could be exactly what he is looking for to put Kurt as ease again. Not to mention that Finn loves the zoo with an enthusiasm that is only acceptable in kids too small to ride the carousel. His mom used to take him all the time when he was little; it was usually a reward for something good, so he has all these positive associations with the activity. His mom even made the car trip fun by teaching Finn how to play license plate games. The trip could be the answer to Finn’s prayers, but Kurt’s wearing  _that look_ , so Finn doesn’t deliberate long on what he’s going to do.  
  
“Mom… it’s cool that you want to have a family day, but maybe we can do something else?” Finn uses his bashful face and tries to sound innocent. It usually works to get what he wants from his mom. He gestures between himself and Kurt. “We’ve got homework and Glee and stuff. Plus it’s a long drive. Can’t we just stay around here? We can have a picnic in the backyard or something.”  
  
“Oh come on! Are you saying you’re too cool to be seen with your mother?” Carole straightens Finn’s shirt collar and pouts. She knows what face to use against  _him_  too. “You used to love it.”  
  
“What’s all this?” Burt asks as he enters the room. “We havin’ a picnic?”  
  
Burt crosses over to Carole, puts his arm around her waist, and pulls her into his side. “I was just trying to convince the boys to go to the zoo for the day,” Carole explains. “I thought it would be fun.” She tilts her head back to look at Finn and Kurt who stand beside each other like a united front. “You two have been acting so serious lately. I know that you’re seniors this year and you’ve got a lot going on, but that’s exactly why you need this!” She makes eye contact with both of them in turn, her face hopeful.  
  
“The zoo, huh? Sounds pretty great to me. I don’t think Kurt and I have ever been to the one here.” He looks to Kurt to confirm.  
  
Kurt shakes his head. “No. I was always really susceptible to animal dander as a child. We didn’t want to risk it.”  
  
“Well!” Carole’s eyes light up; Finn has seen this look before, and it’s trouble. “Do you hear that, Finn? Kurt’s  _never_  been. Do you really think he should go out into the big world without ever having been to the  _zoo_? It’s criminal!”  
  
Finn rolls his eyes, just a little. When his mom gets like this, there is no changing her mind. Finn tries to formulate a rebuttal when Kurt speaks up.  
  
“She’s right.” Kurt says with false solemnity. “How am I supposed to be an adult when I’ve missed out on one of the pivotal childhood experiences?” He turns to Finn and his eyes sparkle with secret humor. “Don’t deprive me of this, Finn. I need it. For my psychological development.”  
  
“Okay, you’re just making fun of me now,” Carole says as Burt laughs. “You’ll pay for that,” she says with her finger pointing at Kurt, but she half-smiling, too. “But seriously, guys. I think it would be good for all of us. Indulge me a little.”  
  
Finn looks at Kurt and hopes he’s not making it too obvious that he’ll do whatever Kurt wants. Kurt pulls a bit of a face before shrugging a shoulder and relenting, making Finn have to suppress his smile. “Okay,” Finn says. “We’re in.”  
  
Carole’s face blooms in her excitement and it makes Finn smile to see her so happy. She starts thinking out loud to Burt about what day to go and how early they need to leave to avoid traffic, and Finn kind of tones her out. He leans over to Kurt and says, “Don’t worry about it, dude. The zoo’s totally fun. We’ll pack sandwiches and buy some of those sunscreen wipes. Everything will be cool.” Kurt looks up at Finn like Finn has surprised him somehow, and it makes Finn feel proud.  
  
\---  
  
They leave for Columbus early the following Sunday. Burt volunteers to drive, but Carole insists that he drive her car. She tells him that it’s more comfortable and has better gas mileage, but Finn knows it’s because her car has GPS, and even though Burt doesn’t often fit the stereotype of a blue collar dad in Ohio, sometimes he  _does_ , because he will not let any human give him directions. Since Carole is the only one who has driven to the zoo before and Kurt is the only person who can get through to Burt when he’s being stubborn, they have worked out a secret signal to communicate when he's taken a wrong turn, so that Kurt can subtly but firmly suggest that they take directions from Vera, Burt’s nickname for the voice of the GPS.  
  
According to Carole it takes an hour and a half to get to the zoo from Lima, but Finn thinks that number cannot be right. When he was a kid, the trip felt like  _days_  as he bounced in his seat, pointing at cows and spilling Goldfish crackers in the floorboards. This time the trip goes by in a flash. Burt and Carole chat in the front seat as Finn and Kurt sing along to Kurt’s iPod and point out license plates from states other than Ohio.  
  
Kurt packs a cooler of picnic food, and even though Finn usually loves the overpriced buckets of fries that one can buy at the zoo, he’s pretty excited for Kurt’s food too. There are chicken salad sandwiches with this fancy mayonnaise that Kurt  _made himself_  and they look so good that Finn almost asks if he can have one for breakfast. They don’t want to drag the cooler through the park though, so they leave it in the car, which proves to be a mistake when Kurt catches Burt with a funnel cake. Kurt uses his patented bitchy glare to guilt Burt into giving it up, but it only causes Burt to shove pieces into his mouth as quickly as possible as he argues, “But it’s a special occasion!” Kurt goes up to Burt with his hand out, but Burt still doesn’t give it up, causing Kurt to reach for it. They both get a good hold on the plate and after a brief tug-of-war the plate tilts and jolts, getting a cloud of powdered sugar all over both of them. Kurt looks completely scandalized by the offensive layer of powder on his clothes, whereas Burt looks down at his funnel cake on the ground with lament. Finn makes a joke about how they look like tiny little yetis, which makes Kurt and Burt both shoot back a glare that is so simultaneous and identical that it kind of gives Finn the creeps.  
  
It’s a beautiful day out so Finn is wearing a t-shirt and shorts, but of course Kurt dresses like he’s going to be the target of paparazzi. His button-down is tailored so that it shows the taper of his waist, his pants are super skinny, and the toes of his boots are kind of pointy. Finn is pretty sure if  _he_  walked all day in those boots, his feet would cry. Despite lingering powdered sugar smudges, Kurt looks  _amazing_ , and somehow his hair doesn’t even fall during the hottest part of the day when Finn can feel sweat beading down the back of his neck. Kurt tries to find a shady spot at each exhibit in which to stand, but in those few moments as they walk from one exhibit to the next, Finn marvels at how Kurt seems to outshine the sun.  
  
Finn’s favorite section of the zoo is the African Forest region, mostly because he likes the Great Apes, which of course prompts Kurt to make a joke about Finn wanting to be near his own kind. Finn ignores it and upon seeing the signs that the region is near, he drags the group in that direction, getting impatient when his mom wants to stop along the way. Usually they stand at the exhibits and watch for a few minutes, but since it is Finn’s favorite, they all stop and sit a while to watch the Bonobo chimps.  
  
“I saw on TV that Bonobos resolve all their problems with sex,” Finn explains. “It’s the reason they’re happy and don’t fight all the time like the other chimps.” Finn taps Kurt on the shoulder to emphasize his point. “They do gay stuff too! And have orgies.” Finn considers what the world would be like if people had sex instead of fighting and thinks that’s probably where ‘Make love, not war,’ came from. Those hippies really had it together. “That’s pretty cool.”  
  
Kurt looks at Finn with his lips pulled in and one eyebrow arched. He replies with a noncommittal “hmm” sound and looks back to watch the Bonobos interact. Finn hopes that he’ll get to see the girl Bonobos rub genitals, because that would be  _sweet_.  
  
Around midday, the family makes the long walk back to the cooler for lunch and eats outside on a picnic table. Kurt says that they probably shouldn’t stay too much longer, worried about Burt getting too worn out. Burt waves him off, saying that if he gets tired he’ll take a break for a while; he doesn’t want to ruin everyone else’s fun. Carole suggests picking the exhibits that they don’t want to miss, just in case they want to leave a little early.  
  
Finn jumps in first saying he doesn’t want the miss the Reptile Habitat and says how he and his mom should go in together for old time’s sake. Carole makes a face like she’s seen a ghost and shakes her head vigorously. “Oh no. No, no, no…” Carole grabs onto Burt’s arm and hides her face in his shirt sleeve.  
  
Burt chuckles. “What’s all this about?”  
  
“I had a… traumatic experience,” Carole explains.  
  
Finn laughs. “She took me in there once when I was little. Everything was fine until we got to the King Cobra. It spread out its flaps or whatever and scared her.”  
  
“It looked  _right into my eyes_  like it was trying to hypnotize me! It was terrifying!”  
  
All the men laugh and Carole feigns a huff, pushing Burt hard enough by his shoulder to make him rock to the side. “Fine—make fun. But if you go in there and get your souls stolen, I’m just going to say I told you so.”  
  
Sometime during that conversation, Kurt busts out some his heart-healthy [oatmeal cookies](http://www.wholegraingourmet.com/recipes/43-cookies/58-healthy-oatmeal-cookies.html), so when he says the exhibit he wants to see most, Finn only half-hears because his mouth is full and his eyes are rolled back in his head.   
  
“Wait,” Finn tries to say before he swallows, “They have Hummel penguins here?”  
  
“ _Humboldt_  penguins, Finn,” Kurt corrects.  
  
“There are different types of penguins? Whoa.” Finn always learns awesome things at the zoo.  
  
It turns out that the penguin enclosure is really great. Their cave looks real and the pool comes all the way up to the glass, so it’s easy to watch them swim. Finn stands close, looking down on them as they swish their tails and glide through the water. Finn turns to tell Kurt that they shimmy just like him, but when his eyes land on Kurt’s face, he looks thoughtful and kind of sad.  
  
“Hey… what’s up? I thought the penguins were your favorite?”  
  
Finn’s question startles Kurt out of thought. “Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing.” Finn just keeps looking and gives Kurt what he hopes is an insistent face. “It’s just… I’ve always kind of related to penguins.”  
  
“Well no wonder, dude!” Finn exclaims as Kurt looks dubious. “Have you read the info card? It says that these guys don’t live on Antarctica with all the other penguins. They live in South America where it isn’t even  _cold_.” Finn turns away from the glass to face Kurt. “They aren’t afraid to go their own way, even if that means that they’re on their own sometimes. So, yeah; I can see how you’d relate.”  
  
Kurt’s face stays carefully neutral, but the moment feels heavy and hangs between them as they look into each other’s eyes. Finn feels a weird tension in his gut, but with Burt and Carole so nearby, Finn pulls away from it. He clears his throat, turns back toward the glass, and says the first thing that comes to mind. “And? They make dens from their own poop. That’s badass!”  
  
Kurt's expression goes from melancholy to disgusted in no time flat. “They live in their own filth?” Kurt replies. “That sounds more like you than me.”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Oh, don’t give me that. I’ve been in your room, Finn!”  
  
Finn can feel his brows lower in confusion, but when Kurt grazes their shoulders together as he walks away, Finn forgets Kurt’s words in the way his nerves tingle at the sensation.  
  
\---  
  
In one section of the park there is carnival-like area with games of skill that offer fluffy, stuffed zoo animals as prizes. Burt sees a basketball shooting game and brags a bit to Carole about how he could beat anyone in the park. Finn’s a little surprised because he’s never heard Burt talk about playing basketball before and he’s certainly never played with Finn, but maybe that’s because he doesn’t want to worry Kurt. Carole smiles sweetly up at Burt, bats her eyelashes, and suggests a face-off.  
  
Kurt puts a hand on Finn’s arm. “Is she sure she wants to do that? It’s been a while, but I’ve seen Dad play and he’s pretty good.”  
  
Finn feels a sly smile creep onto his face. “Oh,  _yeah_. Mom was on the All-Ohio team in high school. She’s gonna wipe the  _floor_  with him.”  
  
Finn and Kurt watch as Burt and Carole fight tooth-and-nail to beat each other, but they are surprisingly evenly matched. After a couple of rounds, the pair looks like they might rematch all afternoon, so Kurt drags Finn off to find their own diversion. As they walk around Finn sees a cool, western-themed shooting game that has little moving ‘varmint’ targets. Finn can’t get his money out of his pocket fast enough.  
  
Finn tries a couple of rounds, but with ten shots he can only manage to hit a couple of targets, which isn’t enough to win a prize. He’s honestly not that concerned with the prizes—they’re mostly cheap, kid-sized cowboy hats and Sheriff Badge pins—because it’s a matter of pride.   
  
After another two rounds, Finn is almost ready to throw the stupid fake gun. “This thing is rigged! No one can win at this.”  
  
Kurt takes the gun gently away from Finn and lays his money smoothly on the counter of the booth. The attendant sets the game in motion again, and with seemingly little effort, Kurt manages to hit eight targets, which is enough for a top shelf prize.  
  
“Dude,” Finn gapes. Kurt must be some sort of superhero. “Remind me to bring you along if there’s ever a zombie apocalypse.”   
  
“As touching as it is to know that you would need to be reminded not to leave me to the zombie horde, I think I’ll pass.” Kurt flicks his head even though his hair is still perfectly styled. “You’d just slow me down.”  
  
Finn doesn’t have time to argue his usefulness before the game attendant is showing Kurt his choice of prizes. Kurt just waves his hand palm-up over them, indicating that Finn gets to choose. There’s a shiny, six-shooter cap gun, some tie-on spurs, and ooh, a thick, distressed leather wrist cuff. The cuff fastens with two snaps and it’s not usually Kurt’s kind of thing, but Finn figures he likes taking fashion risks. Besides, Kurt would look kind of tough and amazing in it; the dark, worn leather against the flawless cream of his skin. Finn shakes himself out of  _that_  thought process and picks up the accessory. “We’ll take this one.”  
  
Finn and Kurt clear out of the way for the next people in line and Finn holds out the prize to Kurt. Kurt shakes his head. “No, that’s yours.”  
  
Confused, Finn argues. “But you won it, man!”  
  
“Yes…” Kurt’s eyes dart off to Finn’s far left and then back to meet Finn’s eyes. “But I won it for you.” He points a finger. “And don’t argue! Just don’t say I never avenged your injustices.”  
  
Finn knows that arguing with Kurt is never a good idea, so he looks at the cuff in his hand and tries to figure out how he’s going to put it on. He tries wrapping it around his left wrist but as soon as he brings one end around to meet the other, the band slips and the fasteners don’t meet.  
  
“Here.” Kurt wraps his hand around Finn’s relaxed fist and draws it into him. He takes the cuff from the other hand, presses the leather to Finn’s skin, and snaps the fastener. It’s a tight fit so Kurt has to grip Finn’s hand firmly to turn the cuff so that the snap rests perfectly centered at the pulse point on the underside of his arm.  
  
Finn knows how he should be feeling right now; he should feel grateful. He should be glad that his mom married Kurt’s dad, because now he has this: a brother who will step in when Finn’s in over his head; who will do what he can to soften Finn’s blows regardless of their triviality. It should be a bonding, familial moment; Finn should sling his arm around Kurt and ruffle his hair until he grimaces, but instead Finn can’t help focus on the way that Kurt’s hand is big and strong and capable, but  _so_  soft. Kurt lets Finn go with such casualness that Finn knows that if there was a moment of tension, it was his alone.  
  
Finn opens and closes his hand as he inspects the leather band. He’s not sure he can pull it off. “What do you think? Does it make me look tough?”  
  
When Finn looks up to meet Kurt’s eyes, Kurt’s already watching him. “’Tough’ wasn’t the word I was going to use, but… it suits you.”  
  
For some reason, it feels like a huge validation. “Yeah?”  
  
Kurt’s smile is soft. “Yeah.”  
  
\---  
  
For as warm and sunny as it was at midday, the afternoon feels decidedly more spring-like when dark, ominous clouds blow in at a rapid speed. Kurt and Finn rush back to the basketball game, but Burt and Carole are no longer there. Kurt texts Carole to find her and Burt, but before he can even get the phone back in his pocket, the sky opens up. Kurt squeaks indignantly before taking off in a run with Finn trailing behind him. The best cover they can find is a tree, but water still slides off the leaves and onto their heads.  
  
Kurt holds his hands above himself for protection and his expression is pained. Finn feels the chilled water seep through his shirt onto his shoulders, causing his core temperature to drop rapidly. It’s instinct that causes Finn to step into Kurt’s space and wrap around him until Finn’s forearms span Kurt’s back, blanketing him as best he can. Finn lays his cheek on Kurt’s hair—it’s too wet to be salvageable anyway—and with that simple movement, Finn feels Kurt freeze stiff. Suddenly Finn becomes truly aware of what’s he’s doing. The gesture had been made with complete innocence, but with Finn’s recent admission, he can imagine what Kurt is thinking and wants to kick himself.  
  
Finn squeezes his eyes shut hard once and then opens them again, gathering the strength he needs to let Kurt go; to let him go and know that it’s his fault that expressions of affection between them will forever be stilted and questionable. Finn pulls his face back, but as he does, he can feel Kurt reanimate, lowering his arms from where they’d been hovering strangely in the air at his sides. Kurt loops his arms around Finn’s middle, the loose circle of his arms resting in the small of Finn’s back. They’re pressed tightly enough together than Finn can feel when Kurt relaxes and exhales.  
  
Finn’s heart races as he and Kurt stand perfectly still under that tree as the summer storm rages. If he’s honest Finn doesn’t even feel the rain anymore because all his senses are focused on every miniscule movement of the person in his arms. Finn thinks that if it  _is_  still raining, the drops probably turn immediately to vapor upon contact with his suddenly overheated skin.  
  
When Kurt’s phone chimes, Finn loosens his hold on Kurt and steps back, allowing Kurt to pull the phone from the confines of his pants pocket. The noise signals a text from Carole who directs them to meet her and Burt at the entrance. Finn reads the message over Kurt’s shoulder, but it’s mostly an excuse to stand within the corona of Kurt’s body heat.  
  
It’s still raining when the family piles back into the car. All four of them are soaking wet and shivering, but are no worse for wear. Kurt grimaces as he touches the hair that lays flat and sticks to his forehead. When their eyes meet, Finn shakes his hair out like a dog, and Kurt’s resulting look of horror and disbelief makes Finn feel warm again.  
  
“Well, that’ll wake ya up in the mornin’!” Burt declares as he pulls his wet cap off of his head.  
  
“This was  _not_  in the weather report,” Carole laments as she digs in her purse for a pack of tissues. “What exactly do meteorologists get paid for, anyway? If I were wrong as often as they are in  _my_  job…”  
  
“Babe…” Burt soothes.  
  
“Yeah, yeah; I know. I’m just disappointed our day got cut short. I was hoping we could all ride the carousel and I could take some pictures.”  
  
Burt pets her arm. “Sorry, honey. I promise that the next time I ride a tiger wearing a saddle, I’ll make sure you’re there to record the whole thing.” Carole lowers her brow at him, so Burt pulls her toward him and kisses her hair. “Seriously though? Today was great; it couldn’t have been any better! Right, guys?”  
  
Finn and Kurt are quick to agree, and Carole seems placated. She changes the subject by trying to give Burt advice about the best route to the highway, saying that she knows a shortcut. Burt predictably refuses that he needs help, and their banter turns into white noise in Finn’s ears. He ignores them and turns to Kurt. Kurt, who is wet and miserable but still thanks Carole for taking him to the zoo; who sings like his whole soul is coming out of his body; who can balance chemical equations and cook like an Iron Chef  _and_  shoot like that lady in  _Annie Get Your Gun_. Kurt, who sits in the seat across from him, close and pliant enough to touch and yet completely untouchable. Finn leans over, speaking lowly. “Did you have a good time? Even though it got all wet and gross?”  
  
Kurt turns his head sharply, distracted from his task of trying to dry off his phone with the tissues from Carol’s purse. He smiles without teeth, but it’s warm. “It’s not something I would normally do, but… it had its merits.”  
  
Finn nods in relief and sits back in his seat. Burt successfully enters the highway—with or without Carole’s aid Finn doesn’t know—and everyone stays quiet for several miles, listening to the hum of tires on asphalt. Finn reflects for a while before suddenly leaning forward and asking, “So… who won the Basketball Wars?”  
  
\---  
  
After their trip to the zoo, Finn is more tragically in love with Kurt than ever. It’s getting really bad too; sometimes his teachers catch him daydreaming about romantic musical numbers, his chin in his hand and his eyes anywhere but at the chalkboard. Nevertheless Finn tries his best to be as brotherly and not-weird as possible, and he can see that Kurt is doing the same. It would be easy for Kurt to avoid Finn, but he doesn’t. In fact he appears to do everything he can to make Finn feel comfortable, like everything is normal between them, and the gesture makes Finn  _ache_. So while he doesn’t draw attention to his feelings for Kurt, he wouldn’t deny them either, not if someone asked. Maybe he shouldn’t do it, but Finn can’t resist but wear his leather cuff every day; sometimes he even sleeps in it if he forgets to take it off. He knows Kurt notices—Kurt notices everything about what people wear—but he never mentions it.  
  
One Monday afternoon Finn watches television in the living room after school. The weather is getting pretty warm, so Finn really wishes he could take his pants off, but Kurt is due home any minute and he does  _not_  appreciate finding Finn in his underwear on the “communal furniture.” Finn thinks that after his confession, Kurt would probably appreciate it even less.  
  
When Kurt arrives, he slips in the door and closes it softly behind him. It’s not typical for him; Kurt likes to make an entrance and usually sweeps in like a gale wind. He’s holding a Lima Bean to-go cup, which usually means he’s been with Blaine, but the exhausted look on his face says otherwise.  
  
“Hey,” Finn greets him gently, his upper body turned and focused on Kurt, who startles like he didn’t expect anyone to be there. Kurt hesitates, glancing up the stairs, but then moves around to the front of the couch, sets down his cup and his keys, and sits gracelessly on the opposite end of the sofa.  
  
“Hello,” Kurt says softly. He sits facing the television which currently plays  _Wizards of Waverly Place_ , a show that usually makes Kurt sigh in derision. Kurt says nothing.   
“Dude,” Finn exclaims as he studies Kurt closely. He’s  _slouching_. “Are you alright?”  
  
“I had a shitty day.” Kurt lays his head on the back of the couch to look at the ceiling. “A shitty, shitty day.”  
  
“Whoa. I’ve never heard you curse before.” Finn is a little bit startled by it. The truth is that the scandal of it would probably turn him on if Kurt weren’t so visibly miserable.  
  
“That’s because it’s crass; but at the moment, I really don’t care.”  
  
“What’s up, man?” Finn stretches his leg and nudges the side of Kurt’s foot with his toes. It’s a testament to Kurt’s mood that he doesn’t jump down Finn’s throat for not respecting his shoes.  
  
Kurt tilts his head to the side to look at Finn. Kurt scans his face, so Finn tries to look as helpful and supportive as possible. Finn expects to see resistance in Kurt’s expression, but he must be too drained because it isn’t there. “I got in a fight with Blaine.”  
  
Finn’s eyebrows shoot up. “You fought with Blaine? You guys never fight!”  
  
“Okay, it wasn’t so much of a  _fight_  as… I upset him. We met up after school and we were talking about… some things. I didn’t mean to—I  _hate_  hurting him—and now I feel…” Kurt huffs a breath and doesn’t finish his sentence. It isn’t like Kurt to not have the words.  
  
Finn waits until he’s sure Kurt isn’t going to continue. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Finn slides a little closer to Kurt on the couch, just enough to be able to lay his arm along the backrest and reach Kurt’s shoulder with the tips of his fingers.  
  
Kurt shakes his head. “Not really.” He looks at Finn and smiles briefly, but his eyes remain sad. “We’ll be fine, you know. Sometimes we get upset, but we always work it out.”  
  
Finn just nods. “Anything I can do?”  
  
Kurt looks into Finn’s eyes; it’s a heavy look.  
  
Finn smiles reassuringly at Kurt. “Seriously, dude. Whatever you need, you know I’m here for you.” He nudges the curve of Kurt’s shoulder with the pads of his fingers and hopes it feels friendly.  
  
Kurt considers Finn’s offer for what feels like a long time. He must come to a decision, because the lines around Kurt’s eyes relax and smooth as he gestures to the void underneath Finn’s arm. Despite the strength of Kurt’s voice, Finn still thinks he sounds unsure. “Can I just…”  
  
Kurt scoots closer to Finn, his eyes on Finn’s body instead of his face. When Finn comprehends what Kurt is doing, he freezes for a second before realizing he should probably  _do something_. He scrambles to get closer to Kurt, to meet him halfway. His movements are jerky and he winds up jostling Kurt when he knocks their sides together with more force than can be described as smooth. Kurt huffs a laugh though, and for the first time since he arrived home, he looks like he doesn’t want to crawl in a hole.  
  
Kurt leans back to rest his weight on Finn’s outstretched arm, leaving Finn’s hand sticking out awkwardly in the air. They sit with a stillness that makes the motion of their breathing seem dramatic as Finn waits for the strangeness to pass. Finn feels Kurt shift his weight and expects for Kurt to get up and leave, saying that it’s too weird; that he gave it a shot and Finn isn’t what he needs. Instead Kurt shifts his hips forward so that his shoulder can tuck underneath Finn’s arm, allowing his head to rest on the side of Finn’s chest and making it rise and lower slightly with Finn’s every inhale and exhale. The two sit together, the Disney Channel the only sound in the room, until Carole flings the front door open and tells Finn without looking at him to put his pants on because she’s taking them out to Breadstix.  
  
\---  
  
Finn digs in his locker one day after lunch when Rachel strides right up to him with a resolved look on her face. Finn is startled; since their break-up Finn and Rachel have relegated their communication to texting, Twitter, and the occasionally Glee member go-between. If she’s coming to him now, something serious must be up.  
  
“Rachel!” Finn knows his surprise and worry is all over his face. “Is everything okay? Oh god, is it your dad?”  
  
Rachel looks taken aback. “My dad? Why would something be wrong with my dad?”  
  
“Remember that time we were in your basement? And you and your dads were teaching me how to express the drama of the music with my body or whatever and I kinda punched him in the head? I know he said he was fine, but I saw this special on TLC about freak medical conditions—”  
  
Rachel interrupts him with a no-nonsense tone and a stop-in-the-name-of-love hand. “My dads are fine, Finn. That was four months ago! If there were anything wrong with him, certainly we would know by now.”  
  
Finn jabs his index finger into the air for emphasis. “That’s what the man on TLC thought!”  
  
Rachel ignores his point and steps far enough into his personal space that she has to crane her neck up to look to meet his eyes. “Finn, I’m here because I want to talk about us.” She looks down at her hand as she runs the fabric of Finn’s shirt sleeve between her fingers, lifting a shoulder and confessing in her softest, most coaxing voice, “I miss you.” She looks back up at him from under her eyelashes. “I know you miss me, too. I was wrong to let you go, and I’m big enough to admit that now. I think we should talk about a reconciliation. Can I come over to your house after Glee?”  
  
Finn gapes for a moment. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea.”  
  
Rachel blinks in surprise. “Please? I know we have a lot to resolve, but I’m willing to do what it takes to make this up to you.” Her voice is tender yet manic. She’s in pain. “Please, Finn.”  
  
The bell rings. He’s going to be late for English  _again_. Finn reluctantly acquiesces in his rush to get to class, and Rachel walks away, her face full of hope and her steps full of purpose.  
  
Glee isn’t very productive. Nationals are coming up soon, but instead of rehearsing, the entire club takes turns singing about whatever is bothering them. Rachel doesn’t complain, Finn realizes, only because she has the intention of doing the same thing. She makes sure she sings last, having explained once to Finn how being the finale makes sure her performance has the greatest emotional impact. She belts out “[When You’re Gone](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vx2UKuyrTMQ)” by Avril Lavigne and she’s stunning. Finn knows the song is for show, but she really means it too, which is the sincerest expression Rachel knows. She’s as beautiful as ever, her presence a force; she’s his first real love and she’s hurting. Finn wants to make it better, wants to help her, but he doesn’t want  _her_ , not anymore.  
  
As Rachel closes her eyes to sing the bridge, Finn glances over at Kurt. He’s not attentively watching the performance as he typically would. His arms are crossed tightly and tucked into his body, his shoulders slumped and his eyes cast down to the ground. Finn’s seen that expression on Kurt before, and it makes Finn’s stomach clench at the memory. Finn looks back at Rachel just in time to see her open her eyes and sing the final chorus directly to him.  
  
Rachel insists on riding home with him and he can’t bear to refuse. They wait for Kurt at the door to the choir room—he rode to school with Finn that morning—but Kurt tells them to go on without him. Finn wants to reach out to Kurt; to take hold of his arm and tell him that he needs him for this. Finn wants to pull him aside, ask for his help, and tell him that just knowing Kurt is in the house will make Finn stronger, but Sugar strolls up and links arms with Kurt instead, announcing that she wants to buy Kurt things to cheer him up because he looks as sad as the kittens in those Sarah McLachlan [commercials](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IO9d2PpP7tQ). Kurt feigns a smile—even though it’s not really funny and Finn’s not sure it was a joke anyway—and carefully avoids Finn’s eyes. Finn watches Sugar lead him away until Rachel takes his hand and pulls him in the direction of the parking lot.  
  
No one is home when they arrive, so when Rachel suggests they go up to Finn’s room, Finn instead leads her to the den. Rachel talks for a long time, laying out for Finn all the reasons they should be together. She  _presents_  them to him like it’s an argument she’s trying to win, like the reason they should be together is a matter of sense. When Finn stands and paces, and it is clear to her that her argument isn’t working, she begins to cry and tells Finn that when she sees her future—wherever and whoever she will be—she sees it with him. He believes her; he can tell when Rachel is being disingenuous and when she isn’t. He can see grief and regret all over her and he can’t stand it, so he gathers her up in his arms, comforting her and breathing platitudes into her hair as she settles.  
  
When she stops crying, she pulls back and looks up into his eyes, her eyelids discolored and puffy. In that moment, she’s the most sincere he’s ever seen her. She smiles and thinks she’s won, so Finn makes his intentions clear. He moves away from her, but continues holding her shoulders in his hands. He apologizes and means it, telling her that there is no chance for them now. Her face crumples again, but Finn continues despite the pangs in his heart. She asks why, begging and pleading, demanding an explanation. Finn knows the real reason, but Rachel isn’t who he’s loyal to anymore, so he doesn’t answer. Instead he consoles her, saying it isn’t her fault; that she was right when she ended their relationship. He assures her that she’ll find someone who is right for her and that she will always hold a place in his heart.  
  
Rachel eventually cries herself out, sitting still and numb. When she’s ready Finn guides her to his truck and drives her home, walking her to her door and kissing her goodbye. It feels like an ending. Their story is over now, and if this were a movie, the credits would be rolling with a sad song dubbed over them. This is real life though, so Finn knows that he’ll keep going and the rock in his stomach will eventually dissipate.  
  
Finn walks in his front door, throws his keys down, and rubs his temples as he considers taking a nap on the couch. When he enters the living room though, he almost runs into Kurt who halts mid-stride with a glass of water in his hand. The sight of him makes the tension and exhaustion in Finn’s shoulders dissipate a little. Finn exhales, “You’re back.”  
  
Kurt looks around the room before meeting Finn’s eyes and pulling one side of his mouth up in a sick, mock smile. “I  _do_  live here, Finn. Sorry if I’m in your way.”  
  
The coldness in Kurt’s voice strikes Finn like a punch to the gut. “What? No, that’s not… I just meant—”  
  
Kurt continues on like a bulldozer. “I suppose some congratulations are in order. Glee’s most privileged power couple is back together! I’m sure Mr. Schue will celebrate by giving the two of you yet anotherduet at Nationals.” Kurt storms away, body checking Finn with a shoulder in his haste to get past him.  
  
Finn catches and holds Kurt by the elbow, his mind racing to catch up. “Wait! Just wait a minute.” Kurt turns around and the look on his face gives Finn chills. “We’re not together.” He shakes his head, desperate for Kurt to understand. “We’re  _not_ … and we’re not going to be.”  
  
Kurt seethes hard enough that Finn can see his chest move with breath. The ire in his voice wanes slightly, but his posture remains board-straight. “Why not?”  
  
Finn guides Kurt forward until Kurt can’t help but take one step closer, until he’s close enough that Finn can smell the product in his hair. Finn’s voice drops in volume involuntarily. “You know why. I  _told_  you why.” Kurt inspects Finn’s face, his chest slowing, but still heaving. “I know I haven’t mentioned it, not since that day in the kitchen, but that’s because I didn’t want you to feel weird or… pressured or something. So I’m going to tell you now, but I’ll never mention again, not if you don’t want me to.”  
  
Finn takes a half-step forward, closing the distance between them so that their torsos are parallel and so, so close. Kurt’s eyebrows are drawn and his neck is tilted back, but he doesn’t step away. Finn’s hand still grips Kurt’s elbow, so he relaxes it and dares to run it slowly up Kurt’s arm and over his shoulder until his fingers inadvertently graze Kurt’s neck. Kurt’s lips part.  
  
“Kurt,” Finn sighs, near enough that Kurt must feel his breath. “You’ve gotta know that I—”  
  
The sound of the key in the door is so loud and unwelcome that it genuinely startles Finn. Kurt jumps away from Finn and freezes, but they are both still tellingly close. Burt throws the door open, greeting Finn and Kurt before slowing his movements and looking between the two of them with narrowed eyes.  
  
“I have homework,” Kurt says in a rush before uncharacteristically barreling up the stairs. It would be funny if Finn’s heart weren’t beating so hard.  
  
Burt watches Kurt run up the stairs before turning back to Finn. He walks toward him, and Finn momentarily worries about what is going to happen, but as he walks past Finn to enter the kitchen, he hesitates in front of him just long enough to go, “Mm hmm.” Finn lets out his breath in a rush.  
  
\---  
  
The next few days are an exercise in torture. Finn felt something that night with Kurt, something crackling and tense, and he’s pretty sure it wasn’t just on his side. Despite seeing Kurt every day, it never feels like the right time to bring it up again or pick up where they left off. Over the next week, Kurt meets up with Blaine a couple of times after school and Finn hangs out with the guys on the weekend. When they’re both at home, Burt and Carole are too, and the situation seems too delicate to risk being interrupted again. The tone of their interactions, as brief as they may be, are different now. When Kurt catches Finn looking a little too long, Finn doesn’t bother trying to hide it anymore.  
  
Late one evening, Finn sits at his laptop in his room. He is supposed to be writing an essay for English, but instead he’s surfing the Net. He thinks to himself that the only time he ever surfs the Net is when he’s supposed to be doing school work. He hears a knock at his door.  
  
“It’s open,” Finn replies. He looks over to his door just in time to see Kurt enter, close the door softly behind him, and walk to the center of the empty floor space. Finn can’t contain his pleasure and smiles without reserve. “Hey, man! How was—”  
  
“Blaine kissed me today.” Kurt stands tall and still with his hands clasped, watching Finn intently and waiting, his face neutral. To an outsider it might seem like Kurt has no opinion on the idea at all.  
  
“Oh,” Finn breathes. Just like that, Finn can feel every inch of ground that he and Kurt have made crumble out from under them. Finn takes a moment to gather his strength and forces a smile. “That’s great… right? It’s what you’ve been waiting for.” Finn stands up, coming face-to-face with Kurt. “I’m happy for you.”  
  
Kurt tilts his face up to maintain eye contact. He still looks like he’s waiting for something.  
  
Finn throws caution to the wind and hugs Kurt, Finn’s body weight hitting him with more force than he means. It either knocks the wind out of Kurt or he gasps; Finn can’t really tell. Finn holds Kurt—clings to him if he’s honest—bent over and pressing his face into Kurt’s neck. He’s soaking him up. It’s pathetic, and he knows it, but he has no pride anymore; not with Kurt. If this is all he gets, then he’s going to take it.  
  
Time passes and Kurt pulls back, gently pushing Finn away. When he does, his cheeks are wet and his eyes are red. He’s crying.  
  
“Whoa.” Finn holds his hands out like he’s trying to stop the room from spinning. “Okay, apparently I’m missing something.”   
  
“Why did you have to do this?” Kurt’s voice wavers with such emotion Finn feels it in his gut.  
  
Finn searches his mind for an explanation. He doesn’t come up with anything. “I don’t know what you mean.”  
  
Kurt throws up his hands and turns for the door. Instead of leaving though, he spins back on Finn, gesturing wildly. “You screwed me all up, that’s what you did! Today should be the happiest day of my life, and now…”  
  
Finn waits. Whatever Kurt is going to say next is important, and his pulse races at the knowledge.  
  
Kurt doesn’t continue though. He just stands there looking wrecked, his face streaked with color and salt. He looks so young. “I’m sorry,” Kurt barely whispers. “I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.” Kurt turns quickly and rushes for the door closing it swiftly behind him. Finn considers chasing him but is too stunned to move. Finn stares at the closed door for a long time.  
  
\---  
  
  
Hours and one really awkward dinner later, Finn lies on his bed staring at the ceiling. It’s times like these he wishes he had a poster up there; at least it would give him something to look at while he torments himself. Generally Finn can fall asleep standing up—sometimes while in the shower with the water running—but when he closes his eyes this night his mind screams, so he keeps them open. It won’t be the first time he’s lost sleep over Kurt.  
  
Finn startles as he hears his door open loudly in the silent stillness of the dark house. He sits up reflexively and instantly wonders where his baseball bat is.  
  
“I want to have sex, Finn.”   
  
It’s Kurt… not a burglar or home invader or anything. Finn’s panic begins to subside, until Finn realizes what Kurt has just said.  
  
Finn’s eyes go wide. He looks around the room for creepy clowns or something else that would indicate that this is a dream. “...Right now?”  
  
Finn can see Kurt roll his eyes in the low light from his bedside lamp. “No, not right now. But someday!” He walks up to the side of the bed, right up into Finn’s personal space, challenging him. “I want a  _real_ relationship. One with all the bells and whistles. I want love and romance and, yes,  _sex_. I want a boyfriend who  _wants_  me, Finn… Not one who thinks that they can if they try hard enough.” Kurt’s resolve strengthens. “It’s what I deserve.”  
  
“Is that what you’re worried about? That I don’t want you?”  
  
“You like  _girls_ , Finn. Lots of them. And it’s…” Kurt sighs. “It’s fine! You like what you like, and that’s fine. You’re confused right now, and that’s okay too, but… I can’t do this. I can’t be your experiment. I’m sorry.”  
  
The confession hurts like a physical blow. Finn watches Kurt as he stands at the edge of Finn’s bed asserting himself, and Finn wants to touch him. He wants to comfort him and hold him and get his hands in his hair. He wants to pull Kurt into his bed and feel him against his body until his rigid posture softens and they mold to each other. If that isn’t wanting Kurt, then what the hell is it?  
  
“Kurt.” Finn tries to say more, but he isn’t sure what to say. He reaches out with his left hand and pulls Kurt’s right arm away from his body where he has his arms crossed defensively. The touch starts at the elbow, but as Kurt relaxes his arm down to his side, Finn softly grasps it. His hand wraps around Kurt’s forearm, but not all the way. Kurt is thicker and sturdier than people give him credit for, and Finn thinks that Kurt needs someone to notice these kinds of things about him, things that most people don’t see. Finn wants to be that person. His hand slides down Kurt’s arm to his open, relaxed hand and grasps it. Kurt doesn’t immediately react; his hand remaining loose as Finn holds it. When Finn finally feels Kurt’s fingers twitch and his fist close firmly, Kurt’s eyes are closed and he exhales slowly. It’s shaky. Kurt’s _whole body_  is shaky.  
  
Suddenly, something is very clear. Kurt is scared. He’s  _terrified_. Finn realizes in that moment that there’s no real reason for Kurt to be here right now; he doesn’t owe Finn anything. He didn’t have to tell Finn about kissing Blaine and yet here he stands, open and vulnerable and not bothering to hide it.  
  
Finn understands that Kurt needs something from him, and Finn will say anything to make Kurt stop trembling. “I know this is scary. It is for me, too. I don’t know what I’m doing here either.” Finn looks down and shakes his head a little. He squeezes Kurt’s warm, broad hand in his and continues, looking up again. “I can’t promise you that I’ll be exactly what you need, or what you deserve. Not because you’re a dude, but because… that’s what relationships are. You never know until you try it out, right? And I want to try, Kurt. I’ll try  _so_  hard." He knows he’s probably clasping Kurt’s hand too firmly, but he is kind of afraid that if he doesn’t, Kurt will slip away, out of his grip and out the door. If Finn’s going to be rejected, he at least wants to hear it directly, right now. He opens his eyes again to see Kurt staring at him intensely. He looks like he’s going to cry again.  
  
“Kurt? Oh god, don’t cry!” Finn uses his free hand to pat and rub Kurt’s upper left arm. “Just say something, okay? You’re freaking me—”  
  
Suddenly, Kurt yanks his hand free from Finn’s grasp. Before Finn can question it Kurt leans over, takes Finn’s face in his hands, and kisses him. Finn is stunned still, and by the time he realizes that he should be kissing back, Kurt has already pulled away. Finn’s body leans involuntarily forward, searching Kurt out, but Kurt’s gentle hold steadies him. Kurt looks uncertain, his eyes flicking back and forth between Finn’s when he whispers, “…okay?”  
  
Finn can’t keep the awe off of his face. “Yeah. Yes.”  
  
Finn pulls Kurt back down slowly to give him a chance to pull away, but Kurt flows to him like water. Finn doesn’t waste the opportunity; he feels the cut of Kurt’s jaw on his over-sensitive fingertips and brings their lips together. Finn has to tilt his head back and bare his throat to reach.  
  
Finn wants to prove something with this kiss. He wants Kurt to feels his love, his frustration, his need until Kurt is as screwed up and off-balance as Finn has been these past months. Kurt doesn’t give him the chance, though. Kurt  _really_  kisses him; he draws Finn into his arms, encompassing him, overwhelming him until Finn forgets that he has any agenda at all. Finn gets swept up in him, in Kurt, giving and taking and being taken.  
  
It’s instinctual for Finn to scoot back farther onto his bed. He doesn’t mean anything by it; he just suddenly remembers that Kurt is still standing, which seems both unfair and impossible because if Kurt’s legs feel anything like Finn’s do, he has no business relying on them. Kurt follows Finn, mouth-to-mouth, until his knees dig into the edge of the mattress and hold his weight. He leans forward as far as he can, still following Finn with his torso but leaving his feet planted firmly on the floor. When Finn pulls back too far for Kurt to reach, the kiss breaks and leaves the two gasping and staring, mingling their breaths together.  
  
Finn immediately and wordlessly takes Kurt’s hand again and pulls it gently toward him, coaxing. He doesn’t think at all; he relies on his feelings only, every part of his body telling him that Kurt is too far away and that they’ve spent too much time being apart already. Kurt leans back, pulls his hand from Finn’s, and shakes his head in quick, violent motions.  
  
“Hey, no…” Finn crawls forward again, holding his hand out to Kurt, but afraid that a touch would further spook him. “I wasn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t expecting…”  
  
Kurt breathes out air that he may have been holding. “No, I know. It’s fine.” He smiles weakly. He’s trying to reassure  _Finn_ , and it makes Finn’s chest feel like it could burst. “It’s just… when I walked in here, I wasn’t expecting this to happen. I hadn’t even considered that it  _might_  happen. I was planning to draw a line and to stand behind it.”  
  
Finn’s not exactly sure what Kurt means by that, but he can guess. “And now?”  
  
Kurt looks to the ceiling and throws his hands up dramatically. “I don’t know! This isn’t exactly how I imagined this going.” He’s speaking loudly and with force, and it makes Finn smile to himself. In this moment Kurt is big and theatrical, which means he’s at ease. They just kissed, and Kurt is more himself with Finn than he’s been in  _weeks_.  
  
“It’s late,” Kurt says unexpectedly, as if it’s suddenly become late and it wasn’t a second before. “I should call Blaine. I’m sure he’s waiting on me to exfoliate.”  
  
Finn laughs more than it requires; he just feels so  _good_. “Yeah, man. Of course.”

Kurt turns towards the door but stops short, hesitating before turning back to Finn. He walks back to the edge of the bed and leans into Finn’s space. Finn just waits, motionless and hopeful, his chin tilted up again as Kurt leans in and kisses Finn with sweet, light pressure on his mouth. “Goodnight, Finn.” It’s almost a whisper.  
  
Kurt slips out of the room without a sound, and suddenly everything in Finn that was keeping him upright evaporates as his back falls onto his mattress. Now that Kurt’s gone, Finn’s room seems still and dim and about twenty degrees colder. Finn shimmies up to his pillow and uses his toes to dig his legs under the disturbed covers. He knows that Kurt is nearby, just on the other side of the wall behind Finn’s headboard. Lately that thought has confused and unsettled him, but it’s different now. He’s still unsettled, but now it’s because his skin is humming and he’s hyperaware it's need. It feels  _good_. Finn’s body is in turmoil, but his mind finds peace, and he falls asleep mere seconds after his head meets the pillow.

 

 

When Finn wakes up the next morning, he knows the whole game has changed. Kurt  _kissed_  him. Kurt kissed him and it awoke a hope in Finn that he didn’t know was there. Finn doesn’t want to presume anything, but it’s the first morning in a long time that he hears the birds singing and doesn’t begrudge them their cheer.  
  
It’s a Thursday, which is kind of awesome because it means he’ll actually get to see Kurt at Glee after school today, but also kind of sucks because he probably won’t see him at all until then. Finn doesn’t expect that one kiss—or three—means that Kurt is suddenly his boyfriend or anything. Finn knows logically that even if it were a Saturday, he and Kurt probably wouldn’t spend the day holding hands in a field of wildflowers, but that doesn’t exactly stop him from imagining it when his mind wanders. Not that he would ever admit to that out loud.  
  
Finn knows he must have gone to his classes, but he can’t really remember a single one of them. He doesn’t even remember eating  _lunch_. He’s spent his entire day in a constant state of optimism and uncertainty and lust; he’s so on edge that by the time Glee rolls around, Finn is thrumming with nervous energy. He wonders if they are going to learn some choreography today so that he can burn off some of it off. He just hopes he doesn’t look like a total spaz… and that no one records it and puts the video online. Once was enough; YouTube comments are terrible for self-esteem.  
  
Mr. Schue mentions an assignment and writes it on the board, but Finn doesn’t really pay attention. He hasn’t prepared anything, but it doesn’t matter; there are always others that are eager to perform. Kurt sits over Finn’s shoulder on the upper row, and considering his proximity is enough to render Finn totally useless, Finn recognizes that his distraction has reached epic levels of badness. He shakes his leg up in down in a compulsive movement, using the tic to focus his attention.  
  
Finn manages to make it through Glee without too many strange looks—though Brittany does ask if Finn’s leg has had too much caffeine—until the last few minutes, when Kurt rushes up to the front of the room.  _That_ , it seems, is enough to hold Finn’s attention. Kurt waves some of the girls up with him and tells Brad they won’t be needing him. Kurt sets up the iPod and all the performers strike a pose as they wait for the [music](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQa7SvVCdZk) to begin. Everyone sings together in the intro, but Kurt breaks free from the group to sing the first verse. The lyrics are pretty sexy and Kurt has the look on his face to match. Tina sings the second verse, and he’s pretty sure Mercedes and Santana are up there too though he honestly can’t say for sure. Finn keeps his eyes on Kurt the whole time, weaving between the girls, swishing his hips, and strutting.  
  
Finn knows this song. It’s from the soundtrack of that [movie](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0203009/) that Kurt and Rachel like—he’s heard them duet to “Come What May” more times than he can count—and Rachel showed him the video once. He admits that he liked the song way better after that because whenever he heard it he could always imagine the ladies in their sexy lingerie. Finn tries to do that now: get his mind off of Kurt by imagining curvy women in shiny, lacy bustiers and garters, and oh god, now he’s imagining  _Kurt_  wearing those things, dark satin against the pale velvet of his skin, his torso wrapped tightly and held firm by an intricate weave of ribbons. Finn tries to feel guilty—Kurt doesn’t usually like when people associate him with girl things—but instead he gets a little woozy from the way the blood rushes in a decidedly different direction than his brain. Finn would run from the room like a coward if he felt like he could stand up without humiliating himself.  
  
The song ends with Kurt and the others hanging off each other and harmonizing the word, “Yes-ah!” Everyone in the room claps; Finn is pretty sure he’s included in that group, but he’s isn’t sure since he can’t really feel his hands. Furthermore, considering the scratchy dryness of his eyes, he’s pretty sure he had forgotten to blink for the entirety of the song. Finn is a  _wreck_  and when Mr. Schue dismisses them, Finn makes an excuse to sit and chat with Artie long enough to get himself under control.  
  
Kurt and Finn walk with the group back to the parking lot, Finn pushing Artie in his chair and listening to Sam describe his most recent favorite horror movie—which sounds really gross and  _awesome_ —and Kurt playing with Mercedes’ hair as he follows behind her. Kurt and Finn aren’t very near to each other, but no matter where Kurt moves, Finn can  _feel_  him there, like he’s super aware of him; like Kurt has somehow embedded himself into Finn’s consciousness. The thought makes Finn smile to himself, glancing over at Kurt just long enough to catch his eye.  
  
The group breaks apart as each person reaches their car. When they reach Kurt’s Navigator, Kurt and Finn wave goodbye to their friends and hop in together. Finn sets his backpack on his feet and grabs the handle attached to the ceiling of the cab—Burt calls it the Oh-Shit bar—waiting for Kurt to pull out. When he doesn’t, Finn turns to see what’s up and finds Kurt looking at him intently. Finn knows that Kurt’s constantly thinking: considering and analyzing, looking at every issue from all possible sides. He really hopes that Kurt didn’t notice Finn practically drooling over him during his number today; he wants Kurt to know he loves him but he doesn’t want him to think he’s some sort of pervo freak who thinks about him in ladies’ underpants. Finn looks back at Kurt, wishing more than ever that he knew what Kurt was thinking.  
  
“I could use some coffee,” Kurt says after a beat. It’s a pretty inconsequential statement after the look he’d been giving Finn, but whatever. Finn will roll with it. “Do you want to go to the Lima Bean with me?”  
  
Finn is taken aback. Kurt’s never taken him to the Lima Bean before. It’s kind of like being invited into his secret clubhouse. “Really? Uh, yeah!” Finn tries to decipher what this means. “I mean, are you sure?”  
  
Kurt turns the key in the ignition, puts the car into gear, and pulls out of the lot. “Sure about what?”  
  
“That you want to take me there. I mean, do you think Blaine’ll be there? What’ll he do if he sees us together?”  
  
“Blaine won’t be there,” Kurt assures. “The Warblers are meeting today and they start later than we do.” He glances back at Finn. “What does it matter anyway?”  
  
Finn shrugs with one shoulder. “It’s just, the Bean is kind of  _your_  place, yours and Blaine’s. It’s special to you guys.”  
  
Kurt scoffs. “It’s a coffee shop, Finn. Anyone can go there. I’ve taken Rachel and Mercedes there!”  
  
“Yeah,” Finn explains, “but it wasn’t the same with them. Listen, you don’t have to pretend with me, okay? You don’t have to hide stuff from me either… not if you don’t want to.”  
  
Kurt, who has kept his hands on ten-and-two and his eyes on the road so far, glances away for a second before focusing straight ahead again. He nods. “Okay.”  
  
Finn tries to read Kurt, but it’s hard when Kurt isn’t looking at him. “Okay?”  
  
Kurt laughs in exasperation and shrugs his shoulders. “I said okay!”  
  
Finn throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender then turns to look out the side window at the scenery as it rushes by. They remain quiet for the rest of the ride.  
  
\---  
  
Finn has never been a huge fan of coffee, so when he and Kurt reach the front of the line at the Lima Bean, he doesn’t really know what kind to order, telling Kurt to just get him something “regular.” He checks out the pastries and stuff instead, and before he’s decided on anything Kurt has already ordered and paid and is shooing him out of the way of the rest of the line. When the barista calls their names, there are two cups and scone on a little plate. Finn doesn’t withhold his approval.  
  
“I thought maybe we could share it,” Kurt breezes.  
  
Kurt leads him to a table and sits gracefully even though he’s carrying way more stuff than Finn is. Finn sits on the opposite side, and the second his weight lands on the seat he wonders if Kurt has ever sat at this table with Blaine before. Finn knows it would be counter-productive to ask so he doesn’t, but he feels out of place anyway. In his discomfort, Finn takes a drink of his coffee which is just on the side of too hot. He swallows reflexively and then hangs his mouth open to let some room-temperature air onto the scalded part of his tongue. When the pain fades away a bit, he notices that the flavor left in his mouth is sweet, milky, and… chocolaty. He braves another drink, drinking slower and blowing on it first this time; it tastes kind of amazing. His surprise and pleasure must show on his face, because when he looks to Kurt his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and Finn can see how the corners of his mouth quirk until Kurt takes a drink to obscure them.  
  
“It’s a mocha,” Kurt answers even though Finn hasn’t asked the question. “It’s what I used to get.”  
  
Finn drinks more, feeling his heat all the way down his throat. “Used to?” Finn’s not sure why anyone would give up something this good.  
  
“When I first started drinking.” Kurt wiggles his cup a little in his hand to draw attention to it. “I’ve since moved on to the hard stuff.”  
  
Finn nods, half listening and half sucking down his sugary beverage. Finn eyes the scone for a second before Kurt waves his permission for Finn to tuck into it. It has blueberries.  
  
“Finn,” Kurt says, “we need to talk.”  
  
“Uh oh.” Those words are never a good sign in Finn’s experience. “The scone is a delicious bribe, isn’t it?”  
  
Kurt ignores the comment. The words come out like they are rehearsed. “Blaine asked me if I had ever kissed you.”  
  
Whoa. That got Finn’s attention. “What?”  
  
“After he kissed me.” Kurt’s draws his arms in close to his body and his legs are crossed purposefully. “Blaine kissed me, and the next words he spoke were asking me if I’d ever kissed  _you_.”  
  
Finn’s not sure what to do or say. He wonders if it would it be rude to chew and just listen, because he’s not sure how to react to that.  
  
“I had been waiting for it for so long… All the duets and the coffee dates,” Kurt continues, ignorant of Finn’s wave of guilt, “and the  _sharing_ … I’ve been wanting him to kiss me since the second our eyes met.”  
  
The admission feels like a kick to the stomach. Kurt still wants Blaine; of course he does. Kurt knows what Finn has to offer, and it’s nothing like what Blaine can. It is suddenly sparklingly clear that Finn never really had a chance. The scone is almost gone, but Finn can’t bear another bite, his stomach churning and the room feeling too hot. Is  _this_  why Kurt brought him here? To blow him off in a public place so that he wouldn’t make a scene?  
  
“And then when it happens…” Kurt continues even though he doesn’t need to explain, “when it  _actually, finally_  happens, the first thing he thinks to ask is about you?” Kurt looks off to Finn’s left. It kind of seems like he’s talking to himself, until suddenly his eyes are intent on Finn’s. “What do you think that means?” Kurt asks, but it’s not harsh and it doesn’t even sound rhetorical. He just sits with his face expectant, like he’s is genuinely waiting on Finn’s insight. Finn wishes he had some.  
  
“What did you say? When he asked you.”  
  
“I said no… I mean, we  _hadn’t_. To be honest, I was so thrown that I wasn’t thinking straight enough to say much of anything. I just remember feeling… like I’d ruined it somehow. Like it was supposed to be this huge life-changing moment and it wasn’t because… why? Because I wasn’t good enough?”  
  
Finn shakes his head involuntarily. “Dude, that’s not the reason. You’re good enough; believe me.”  
  
Kurt rolls his eyes, but it’s not derisive like he sometimes does, because his cheeks tinge pink a little. “That’s not exactly what I meant… but thank you.”  
  
“Sure, man. If you ever need anyone to tell you how awesome you are at stuff, you know where to find me.” Finn looks away, slightly embarrassed, before returning to topic. “You guys have talked about this already, right? The whole me-having-feelings-for-you thing?”  
  
Kurt nods tightly. “Yes. I hope that doesn’t bother you. I just… I needed someone to talk to.”  
  
“Nah, it’s cool. When I was all confused, I talked to Burt about it.”  
  
Kurt freezes for a second, before blurting, “Excuse me what?” like the phrase is one long word.  
  
“Yeah… never mind.”  
  
“Seriously, Finn?” Kurt’s voice gets a little shrill when he says it. “You talked to my  _dad_?”  
  
“I had to! I didn’t know what else to do! I used to talk to Rachel about feelings and stuff, but now…” Finn sees Kurt’s ire wane slightly at the mention of Finn’s broken engagement. “And I couldn’t come to you, because you were the reason I was all mixed up in the first place!”  
  
Kurt shakes his head disbelievingly. “You could’ve still come to me. It has to be a better option than—”  
  
Finn interrupts. “Kind of like how you’re talking to Blaine right now about your confusion over  _him_?”  
  
Kurt looks taken aback. “Okay. Point.”  
  
The two sit in silence for a moment and Finn’s glad. He needs a second to catch up with everything they’ve just said. Finn feels like they are being pretty open, so he doesn’t feel like he has to hold back. “Can I ask you something?” Kurt sips from his cup and doesn’t object, so Finn continues. “Why now?” Finn asks.  
  
Kurt just raises his brows in a nonverbal cue for Finn to continue.  
  
“I mean, you and Blaine have been friends forever, and everyone knew that you two would eventually get to this point, right? He’s had, like, over a year with you. Why does he suddenly decide that he wants you  _now_?”  
  
Kurt is silent for a beat, before rebutting, “I think he’d ask you the same thing.”  
  
Wow, okay. That kind of hurt, but Finn’s not really sure why. “Tushy.”  
  
Kurt’s eyes are wide and then he blinks twice. “I think you mean ‘ _touché_ ’. I  _really hope_  you mean ‘ _touché_ ’.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever. You know I don’t speak Japanese.” Finn is quiet for a long moment, looking down at the table where his cup has left a ring. He can feel Kurt’s eyes on him. “I’m sorry if I screwed things up with you and Blaine. Seriously. Just because I want…” Finn shakes his head to himself, before looking up at Kurt. “I just want you to have what  _you_  want, okay? Don’t worry about me.” Finn knows that this is what the good guy is supposed to do—to be all sacrificing or whatever—but it’s still hard. He really does want Kurt to be with the man of his dreams, but a secret, selfish part really wishes that the man were _him_.  
  
“You can go tell Blaine that you’ve kissed me now and we’ve talked about it and I’m not what you want. That’s what he needs to hear, I’m pretty sure. You can still fix things.” Finn tries to pull up one side of his lip in encouragement, but he knows it comes out shaky. Now he just has to stay as normal and upright as possible until he can get home, flop in his bed, and wallow for a while.  
  
Kurt tilts his head and narrows his eyes, but the expression doesn’t look angry. Kurt looks at Finn like he’s trying to figure him out, as if  _he’s_  the one that’s the mystery. Finn wishes he were in a humor to laugh; compared to Kurt, he’s an open book.  
  
“Maybe we should get home,” Finn says gently. “I’m in charge of dinner and if I don’t start early, I don’t have enough time to screw things up and start over.” It’s a thin excuse, but Kurt just nods, picks up his things, and doesn’t call him on it.  
  
\---  
  
After that day at the Lima Bean, Finn tries really hard to stop loving Kurt… not in the brother way, but in the wants-to-kiss-his-eyelashes way. It isn’t easy. Kurt  _lives_  with him; Finn is surrounded. Every time he turns around at home, Kurt is there being amazing and desirable: slightly less dressed up than at school, unbuttoned and flashing the thin skin at the base of his throat or his strong, pale forearms… a body part that Finn has  _never_  considered sexy on a person before. Sometimes when Finn flops down on the couch, it releases a cloud of Kurt-smell just to screw with him. Kurt is everywhere, filling every open space in his consciousness, and when Finn is feeling self-pitying and cruel, he wishes that high school were over and that Kurt was already gone, living whatever fabulous life he’s going to have. He always feels guilty after, but Finn knows he needs distance or he’ll never get over Kurt… which would make every Thanksgiving for the rest of his life really awkward.  
  
Knowing what he should do and actually doing it are two very different things, however. He should get out of the house more, get out of the Kurt-fog that has him stumbling and blind. He could hang out with the guys; hell, he could go make some extra money at the shop. Instead he changes nothing of his daily routine, hanging around at home as usual, trying not to act obvious while soaking up Kurt’s presence like a lizard sunning on a rock.  
  
Blaine still comes around and Kurt still goes to hang out with him at the Lima Bean, but they don’t seem to be boyfriends. Kurt hasn’t said anything to Finn about it, and when Kurt and Blaine are together they don’t kiss or hold hands or anything, at least not where Finn can see. If they’re  _together_  together, they are doing a good job of hiding it. Finn can’t bear to ask outright because he’s not sure which idea hurts more: that after everything Kurt has actually chosen Blaine over Finn, or that Kurt doesn’t trust Finn enough to think he should know.  
  
It’s the Friday afternoon before Memorial Day and everyone is buzzing with energy at the prospect of a three day weekend. Rachel organizes an impromptu performance to “capitalize on everyone’s high spirits” as they practice for Nationals. They sing “[It’s a Sunshine Day](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NaCCG7QkM_c)” in the school’s courtyard—Kurt calls it insipid—even though  _The Brady Bunch_  is so old that Finn has only ever seen it on  _Nick at Nite_. Despite his previous condemnation, Kurt smiles and bounces during the song, not entirely immune from its upbeat quality. When the number is over, he’s flushed from the warm weather and exertion, and he smiles so hard his upper teeth show, just a little. He’s kind of painfully gorgeous.  
  
Before Finn realizes what he’s doing, he’s slung his arm around Kurt and has him pulled tight and tucked into him. Kurt’s smile changes but doesn’t wane at all; he’s  _beaming_ , looking up at Finn without any reservation. Finn feels Kurt’s hand land firmly between his shoulder blades and slide down his spine to the small of his back; they never lose eye contact. Anyone watching them might see the gesture as brotherly, but Finn feels likes Kurt has burned a swath down his back, setting the nerves on fire.  
  
The others shock them out of the moment, coming over to them to fist pound Finn (Mike) and kiss Kurt on the cheek (Tina). Kurt and Finn break apart, pulled in opposite directions by social demands. When Finn glances back at Kurt, who is surrounded by the girls vying for his attention, he wonders if Kurt feels as stung by the loss of contact as he does.  
  
Kurt and Finn walk back to Finn’s truck after the group breaks up. All the other students are already gone, most of them not even having slowed at the Glee club’s spectacle in the courtyard. Finn’s truck is a lone island in the parking lot, so the walk seems private. Kurt is talking, but it must be the kind of thing to which he only expects Finn’s nodding, because that’s all Finn is giving him and Kurt isn’t complaining. Finn can’t focus; he’s still reeling from Kurt’s touch and can’t help but imagine taking Kurt by the hand, walking with him side-by-side, and taking him home in a way that means something more than it means now.  
  
\---  
  
It’s Kurt’s turn to cook for Family Night, and as much as Finn loves his mom and her cooking, Finn kind of likes Kurt’s food better—not that he would  _ever_  say that out loud; he doesn’t need that kind of drama. Kurt asks Finn for help making dessert, but Finn knows he doesn’t really need it. Kurt’s probably just trying to teach Finn more kitchen things; he’s always saying how he worries that when Finn is on his own he will survive on aerosol whipped cream and canned cheese sprayed directly into his mouth.  
  
Kurt picks a new [recipe](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/bobby-flay/oat-cake-with-warm-mixed-berry-compote-and-clotted-cream-recipe/index.html) and says that he’ll bake the cake if Finn can warm up the berries. Kurt uses the stand mixer to make his batter and reminds Finn where to find the measuring cups and spoons. While the cake cools, Kurt supervises while Finn mixes his ingredients and boils them as directed. Finn stirs, but Kurt worries that he isn’t getting the spoon to the bottom, so he puts his hand around Finn’s, guiding his arm and the spoon alike. Finn stops worrying about the mixture, knowing that Kurt has it covered; besides, he’s too distracted by the way that Kurt is almost pressed against his back to be responsible for anything.  
  
After dinner, when it’s clear that everyone is home for the night, Finn begs everyone to play Jenga. He knows it makes him sound like a kid, but he also knows that in less than a month he’ll be a high school graduate, and he’s afraid that these kinds of things won’t be okay anymore. Finn may be pretty clumsy when he dances—and walks and  _exists_ —but he’s kind of a prodigy when it comes to Jenga. When someone else’s shaky hands cause the tower to tumble, he talks a little smack and sets the stack up again. The foursome play until Carole decides to go to bed, leaving the men to put the game away.  
  
Burt isn’t far behind Carole; he follows Kurt and Finn into the den, but he doesn’t get comfortable in his chair. Instead he perches on the arm of the couch at Kurt’s elbow. “Well, I’m bushed,” Burt announces. “I’ve got a lot to do at the shop before we fly out on Monday, so I’m gonna hit the hay. You boys gonna make a night of it?”  
  
Kurt shrugs. “There are usually bad romantic comedies on basic cable on Friday nights. I thought I might stay up for a while and mock them.” Kurt turns to Finn. “Finn?”  
  
Finn, who claims Burt’s comfy chair in his absence, gapes a bit, looking back and forth between the two Hummels. Finn knows that Kurt often makes fun of movies with his girlfriends; he’s found Rachel and Mercedes camped out on his bed for movie nights before. He’s never invited Finn though, making Finn wonder if staying means being relegated to the role of  _girlfriend_.  
  
Finn knows he could refuse and no one would think anything of it. He could go upstairs and play  _Pawn Stars_  on Facebook, beginning to create the distance from Kurt that he knows that he needs. He  _should_ leave, leave and protect his heart, but Kurt’s face is open and inviting and Finn replies “Yeah, okay,” before he can even make the conscious decision to speak.  
  
Burt nods once at Finn then squeezes the muscle of Kurt’s shoulders, getting his attention. “Well, I’ll leave you boys to it. G’night, kids.”  
  
Finn and Kurt wish Burt goodnight as he stands and heads up the stairs. Kurt snatches up the remote and searches through the guide until his eyes light up. “Ooh, we’re in luck! There’s a Jennifer Aniston marathon on TBS. Her rom coms are  _terrible_.”  
  
Finn watches for a few minutes, but never really catches up on the plot. “Did we start in the middle? Because I have no idea what’s going on.”  
  
“Believe me,” Kurt replies. “It really doesn’t matter.”  
  
Kurt is really good at mocking the movie. He can’t seem to decide what’s worse: the characters’ awful decisions or the offensively clichéd writing. “We get it! The man is insensitive and macho; the woman is controlling and neurotic. Clearly they deserve each other!” Kurt shakes his head. “It’s insulting.”  
  
Finn nods mostly for show because he’s not really sure why Kurt is so angry. In the end, the man and the woman on the screen realize the error of their ways and fall into each other’s arms. Kurt makes an indistinct “ugh” noise and mutes the sound, turning to Finn as the credits roll. Despite his disgust, Kurt seems to be genuinely enjoying himself. “A movie marathon warrants snacks,” Kurt proclaims. “Don’t you think?”  
  
“Dude, you read my mind.”  
  
The two head for the kitchen and grab things to take back with them. Kurt grabs sodas—diet for himself and regular for Finn—and asks Finn to cut a couple of pieces of the cake. Finn also gets chips and beef jerky, which earns him a dubious look but no comment. They go back to the den, but instead of reclining back into Burt’s favorite chair, Finn plops himself down next to Kurt on the couch.  
  
The second movie has already started by the time they get back, but they don’t miss much. Kurt launches into an assault right away and Finn does his best to keep up. “I guess this girl is supposed to be not-hot because she’s wearing glasses,” Finn observes, “but she’s just as pretty as Jennifer Aniston.”  
  
“Right? Why isn’t the movie about the sassy sidekick with the smart mouth?”  
  
“Because there’s no way she’d go for the handsome douchebag?”  
  
Kurt laughs. “And if a rom com isn’t reinforcing societal expectations, then what’s the point?”  
  
Finn watches Kurt watch the movie. Suddenly, he wonders aloud, “Why do you watch these?”  
  
Kurt sighs, considering the question. “Because Hollywood doesn’t make big budget movies about two men unless they have guns in their hands? Because as much as I hate to admit it, I’m looking for that rare film that gets it right? I don’t know. Why does anyone watch them?”  
  
Finn considers that. “I guess it feels good sometimes… to see other people find what they’re looking for, even if maybe they don’t deserve it.”  
  
Kurt turns to Finn with a heavy regard. Finn can feel his gaze even though his own eyes never leave the television. “I mean,” Finn continues, “I kinda  _get_  these movies now. I get why people do weird, crazy things like chase people in the rain. Because when you want someone… when you _love_  someone so much, you feel like you’d do anything. I can relate to that.”  
  
Kurt is quiet for a moment; Finn can see him blinking in his peripheral vision. “Is that how you felt about Rachel?”  
  
Finn looks down at his lap. “No. Not with Rachel.”  
  
And with that, Finn knows it’s time to go; he’s embarrassed himself enough. Finn closes his eyes and just as he grabs the arm of the couch to heave himself up, he feels something soft and smooth on the corner of his jaw.  
  
It’s Kurt’s mouth; Finn has really only felt it once, but it’s seared into his memory. Finn freezes solid, eyes still closed, waiting to see what will happen next; waiting to see if it’s all a misunderstanding. Finn feels the couch cushions shift beside him just seconds before warm lips press against the skin over his cheekbone. Finn breathes shallowly as Kurt explores him, his mouth caressing the various planes of Finn’s face, Kurt steadying himself with a hand on Finn’s shoulder and Finn digging his fingers into the plush fabric of the couch.  
  
When Kurt’s kisses become lingering and wet, when they start sliding and teasing, Finn’s breath quickens and his eyes fly open. Without thought or warning, Finn falls upon Kurt, cradling his head with a hand at the base of his skull and dives into his mouth. In a blink they are horizontal, Finn acting entirely on instinct. He doesn’t hold back; he doesn’t have the control. He feels Kurt solid underneath him, solid and large and  _so good_.  
  
Finn kisses Kurt with a ferocity feels new and untapped. He pushes into Kurt’s lips with a force that would be too hard for some people, but Kurt is clutching at Finn’s back and holding him close, so Finn doesn’t consider letting up. Finn smashes his nose in the process though, and after a moment, he has to pull back to get oxygen back into his lungs. He breathes out and in again, but before he can get back to business Kurt blurts, “I’m not with Blaine.”  
  
Kurt’s tone of voice shocks Finn out of his sex haze long enough to process his words. He pulls back to look into Kurt’s eyes and sees that his pupils are blown and his lips are swollen. “Okay,” Finn says habitually and then wishes that he were a good enough person to have remembered to worry about that. “Okay, good.”  
  
Finn’s still breathing heavily, though a bit of his urgency has waned. Kurt looks up at him, his cheeks flushed and splotchy. He looks grieved somehow and Finn hopes it’s for the same reason that Finn is. Resting his weight on his elbows, he brings his hands to Kurt’s face. He feels the heat of Kurt’s cheeks on his palms and curls his fingers above Kurt’s ears and into his hair. He moves in slowly this time, giving Kurt the opportunity to object. He doesn’t. Instead he tilts his face up and meets Finn readily, opening his jaw and inviting Finn inside of him.  
  
Kurt drags his tongue along Finn’s with such intention that it makes Finn shiver. It’s unhurried and indulgent, as if there is nothing in the world but them and this and time. Finn feels the heat and the tension between them build again and thinks that Kurt must feel the same by the way he can’t keep still. His hands run smoothly over Finn’s sides and back and his legs shift, causing his thighs to slide against Finn’s in a way that Finn’s body instinctually recognizes. Finn audibly grunts, his hips thrusting forward of their own accord. He’s not directly on top of Kurt; their torsos are skewed, so his arousal doesn’t make contact with Kurt’s body. The movement makes him shift his leg to balance himself and causes the bulk of his weight to fall across Kurt’s hips. Kurt reacts with a loud, musical, primal noise that tears Finn’s eyes open. Kurt tenses and before Finn can ask what’s wrong he feels a long, hot weight pressed in a line along his hipbone.  
  
Finn instantaneously knows what it is; there’s only one thing it could be. The moment is both surreal and completely, undeniably  _real_. Finn is aware how his face must look, but he can’t seem to control any of his muscles in that moment. Kurt looks up at him with an expression that breaks his heart. He’s seen it before; Kurt is waiting for Finn to disappoint him. In his regret Finn holds tighter to the parts of Kurt in his hands. Finn never wants Kurt to have to make that face again.  
  
Finn looks Kurt straight in the eye. “Sorry, I… sorry.” Finn shakes his head; that’s not what he means to say. “It’s okay,” he whispers close to Kurt’s ear, the tip of his nose brushing Kurt’s cheek. “I am, too.” Kurt’s head turns so minutely, but somehow Finn knows what he’s thinking. “Go ahead.”  
  
Finn closes his eyes and breathes, bracing for the contact. He doesn’t feel or hear Kurt moving until suddenly Kurt’s large hand covers Finn’s dick and Finn has to hold his breath in order not to shatter. Finn hums low in his throat, trying to get used to the sensation. “Kurt…” Finn has never heard his own voice so thick. “Can I? Please?”  
  
Kurt nods, surprised and blinking slowly. Finn shifts all his weight onto one knee, shifting his weight and lifting his body out of the way so his hand can find the evidence of Kurt’s arousal. When it does, he feels all the air in the room go still. It spans his entire hand, heel to fingertips, and Finn feels his mouth fall open. There’s no denying it now; Finn has his hand on Kurt’s  _dick_  and yet the Earth still spins. Finn is as hard as he ever was and somehow even more in love, and he’s not scared at all.  
  
“I’m not scared,” Finn breathes, and apparently Finn needs to grow a verbal filter, but once he starts down a road, he might as well walk it. “Kurt, I’m not scared.”  
  
Kurt does the very last thing that Finn expects; he laughs. “I’m starting to get that impression.”  
  
Finn starts to grasp at Kurt through his pants, curious and exploratory, but Kurt lets him go and stills Finn with his other hand. “Finn…” Kurt placates.  
  
Finn breaks contact and keeps his eye on Kurt, worried that he’s crossed a line. “Sorry! Should I not…”  
  
Kurt shushes Finn with a finger to his lips. His expression is soft and does nothing to slow the beat of Finn’s heart. Kurt points up to the ceiling above their heads, and at first Finn has no clue what he’s trying to say until he remembers that, oh god, their parents are just up the stairs and he and Kurt are on the couch in the middle of the living room. Well, at least that’s a good way to kill a boner.   
  
“We should probably go up to bed,” Kurt says in a low voice, and suddenly Finn’s dick doesn’t care who is in the house. Finn’s reaction must show on his face because Kurt smirks in a sexy, cat-like way and stresses, “ _Separately_.”  
  
When Finn gets enough blood in his head to stand up, he climbs off of Kurt as gracefully as possible. He offers Kurt a hand which he takes, pulling him up as well. They clean up the mess on the coffee table and shut off the television before heading up the stairs. Finn’s door is closest to the stairs and he has trouble stopping there when he knows that Kurt is going to continue on to the next room. Kurt stops too though, and pulls Finn down to claim his mouth in a kiss that tastes like a promise. They kiss for too long, until they hear a real or imagined noise from their parents’ room. Flying apart, they suppress giggles when they realize that no one is coming out to catch them. Finn gives Kurt one more peck before turning into his doorway, though he takes a moment to watch Kurt as he walks away.  
  
Finn sheds himself of his pants when he gets to his room and climbs into his bed. He’s tired, but his mind rushes with memories and echoes of sensation. He knows what he needs to sleep; he needs to  _get off_ , and for the first time Finn thinks that maybe imagining Kurt while he does it isn’t something Kurt would mind.  
  
\---  
  
Despite Carole’s frenzy to pack and ready the house for her and Burt’s departure, the weekend goes by torturously slowly. Kurt and Finn are constantly together, but they are almost always in the company of one or both of their parents, and even if neither Burt nor Carole is in the room, they are almost assuredly nearby. Finn tries to keep calm and not look at Kurt too much, but he’ll catch his eye wandering to him if he sits still too long. Finn would worry about looking like a creeper if he didn’t keep catching Kurt doing the same thing. In response Kurt looks coyly away, but sometimes he’ll look back without inhibition, Finn daring to believe that the timidity is for their parents’ benefit and not Kurt’s. Finn feels like he and Kurt are dancing around something; it’s exciting and nerve-wracking and  _frustrating_ , but Finn tries his best to be patient. After all, at least they are both finally dancing.  
  
Burt has a function in D.C. on the actual Memorial Day holiday, so he and Carole leave for the airport on Monday morning before it is even fully light outside. Kurt and Finn drag themselves out of bed to send them off, Kurt in pristine navy pajamas with white buttons and Finn in his faded The Hulk pajama bottoms, Carole hugging both boys in turn and lamenting the fact that they can’t come along. Kurt expresses his empathy, but reminds her again that they have school the next day.  
  
“C’mon, honey. They’ll be all right. We’re only gonna be gone a coupla days.” Carole withdraws and Burt hugs them each in turn. “You boys have fun,” Burt throws out casually before tensing. “But not too much fun,” he clarifies, pointing his finger at Kurt and then at Finn. Finn swallows hard, but Kurt just rolls his eyes and pushes Burt towards the door as he insists, “I mean it!”  
  
Finn helps his mom with  _all_  her luggage—Carole must be taking lessons from Kurt when it comes to the amount of products she uses—and waves goodbye to them as they drive away. Finn feels a little downtrodden. He wasn’t  _exactly_  making sexy plans for the rest of the day, but he can admit that he liked the feeling that such plans were possible. Burt seems to have kind of forbidden it though, and Finn is ready to comply until, once Burt’s truck is out of sight, Kurt slides his hand into Finn’s. When Finn turns his head to look at him, Kurt wears an expression Finn’s never seen before. Finn can’t describe it—not without using clichéd words like “electric”—but it makes the tiny hairs on his arms stand erect.  
  
Kurt pulls Finn back into the house, Finn following without question. Kurt closes and locks the front door behind him and says something, but Finn is too impaired by the early hour and Kurt’s nearness to comprehend it at first. “Huh?”  
  
“Let’s go back to bed. It’s too early to get up, even for me.” It sounds decisive, but Kurt just looks up at Finn and doesn’t move until Finn agrees.  
  
Kurt guides Finn up the stairs, their hands still joined and their feet quiet on the carpet. Kurt stops in front of Finn’s doorway, turning to Finn with big eyes. Finn squeezes Kurt’s hand before letting it go, and in that moment it feels like the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. Kurt smiles a little but he looks pained too. Finn takes a breath, preparing to beg Kurt to stay, to follow him into his room; preparing to promise that he’ll keep it innocent if Kurt will just stay with him. Kurt prevents it though with a kiss to his cheek and the whispered word, “goodnight” in his ear.  
  
Finn wakes later to feel his mattress jostling underneath him. Even if Kurt weren’t the only other person in the house, Finn would know it was him. “Kurt?” Finn slurs, turning his shoulders toward the dip in the bed but unwilling to open his eyes. “Is everything okay? Is the house on fire?”  
  
“Everything is fine,” Kurt soothes, the fleshy pads of his fingers reaching out to graze the cut of Finn’s exposed tricep. “I just…”  
  
Finn feels the blankets shifting across his skin as Kurt slides underneath them. Finn turns his body towards Kurt without thinking, facing him and rolling close enough to feel the pocket of room temperature air that Kurt’s entrance invited under the covers.  
  
Finn finally opens his eyes. Sunlight slants in the windows but it still isn’t very bright out, so he hasn’t been asleep long. The beams light Kurt from the back, making his hair glow with a reddish hue. His hair is ruffled but his eyes are alert, causing Finn to wonder if he ever fell back to sleep.  
  
Finn’s brain wakes up enough to process what Kurt was saying. “You just…?”  
  
“It was too far,” Kurt breathes, their bodies close enough to share heat but not enough to touch. “I was in there, and you were in here… and I just didn’t see the point anymore.” Finn feels the tips of Kurt’s fingers graze his side, just under his ribcage. “It was too far.”  
  
Finn feels his heart speed; he leans into Kurt’s space so that their eyes lock onto each other, and as he pulls Kurt into him he confesses, “You’re still too far.”  
  
Instantaneously they find themselves pressed together from knees to shoulders in an equitable embrace. Finn rolls onto his back, pulling Kurt on top of him and probably pinning his arms, but Kurt doesn’t complain. They hold each other tightly, Finn pressing his nose into the soft skin behind Kurt’s ear, the room so still and quiet that he can hear his breath echo off of the contours of Kurt’s neck. Finn is so  _full_ —full of comfort and affection and motherfucking  _love_ —that even if he had his eyes open, he wouldn’t be able to see because the rest of his senses are so overloaded.  
  
With as full as his heart is, Finn doesn’t notice how full some of his  _other_  parts get until they decide to make their presence known. Kurt is draped over Finn, squeezing with his arms, his face buried in the naked skin of Finn’s shoulder and his mouth open enough for Finn to feel the faint moisture of the inside of his lip. Kurt’s legs remain slack, his left leg resting between Finn’s open, relaxed thighs. This time when Finn’s hips involuntarily thrust, even through the layers of fabric between them, his hardness finds the perfect, sweet slide of friction against the firm muscle of Kurt’s thigh. Finn groans so deep and low in his throat that he can feel the vibrations in his chest.  
  
“Finn.” Kurt says in a voice that is quiet, but still so sure and strong…  _way_  stronger than Finn feels right now. Finn can’t decide if it’s a warning or an invitation and he  _has_  to know… he has to hear it from Kurt that this is happening, that he’s reading it right… that Kurt is here with him for real.  
  
“Tell me, Kurt.” Finn’s voice trembles, but he hope he covers his nerves when he turns his head, grasps Kurt by the scruff of his neck, and brings their foreheads together. “Please.”  
  
“Yes,” Kurt breathes, the word airy and light but undeniably real. “Finn… yes.”  
  
Kurt pulls back far enough to look into Finn’s eyes before he rolls off of him and onto his back, his hands reaching up to the top button of his pajama top. Finn props himself up onto his elbows for a better view and watches as Kurt methodically, deliberately frees each button. He doesn’t pull the two sides of the shirt apart, but as each enclosure separates, gravity pulls them apart a little bit more and exposes an increasingly growing strip of soft, firm skin. Finn doesn’t think Kurt means for it to be seductive, not with the way that his eyes are fixed on his task, but Finn can feel his lips dry out with his huffs of anxious breath.  
  
When every button is undone, Finn has to grit his teeth to resist reaching his hands under the flaps of navy fabric, running his hands over Kurt’s shoulders, and tearing off the offensive barrier to finally, _finally_  see the v-shaped torso that Kurt always keeps so carefully covered. He considers it,  _wants_  to, but the moment feels delicate, so he waits. He waits, his eyes glued as Kurt pulls the edges of the shirt apart, revealing the soft definition of his abs. He waits, as Kurt sits up enough to pull the top over his shoulders and arms, dropping it to the floor at the side of the bed. He waits, until Kurt squirms under Finn’s heavy gaze, grasps at the wrist that wears a thick leather band, and pleads, “Touch me, okay?”  
  
Finn touches. He rolls to hover over Kurt, learning him with his hands; his fingers spread wide and eliciting such lovely sounds that he follows his caresses with his mouth, Kurt’s skin smelling faintly of lotion but tasting like  _skin_. The flat plane of Kurt’s stomach jumps in time with each barely audible gasp; Kurt’s hands fly to Finn’s hair and he grabs on, Finn feeling the dull tug against his scalp.  
  
Finn feels bold; he feels  _brave_. He sees the faint, barely visible hairs that trail across the smooth patch of skin below Kurt’s belly button. He knows logically where they lead, but it isn’t enough; he needs to see. He presses his palm on the skin there, pushing firmly enough to feel Kurt’s contracted muscles resist the movement, feeling the band of Kurt’s pajama pants against his thumb and slipping under it, causing Kurt to whimper. Braver still, Finn turns his hand and takes hold of the waistband, the backs of his fingers resting against the smooth heat of Kurt’s body.  
  
Finn looks up at Kurt, his cheeks glowing pink with heat, his mouth hanging open as he pants. The eye contact spurs Kurt into action. He tugs Finn up by his hair to meet his mouth, the hinge of his jaw already wantonly open. Their tongues meet and it’s dirty in a way that Finn’s never really felt before, cracking with tension and intention. Finn takes it as an invitation; he grasps the bands of Kurt’s pajamas and boxer-briefs, pulling them away from his body and down, doing his best to free Kurt’s dick. Finn can’t see what he’s doing, nor can he get the articles all the way off, but he can’t bear to part from Kurt’s mouth long enough to ask for help so it’s lucky that Kurt lifts his hips enough for Finn to pull them down somewhere around his thighs.  
  
Without even thinking, Finn has his dominant hand around Kurt’s erection. Suddenly the air shifts; for the first time Kurt outright  _moans_ , his mouth separating from Finn’s. It shocks them still for a moment, breathing into each other’s mouths. Kurt seems to take a moment to recover before almost imperceptibly shifting his hips, cuing Finn to move his hand. Finn complies, at first keeping the strokes slow and too gentle to get them both used to it. It doesn’t take long, the motion familiar enough that the mechanics feel like second nature despite the odd angle.  
  
Kurt’s arms lower, one to grapple Finn’s back and the other to stroke down Finn’s chest and stomach to find the bulge in Finn’s pajamas. Finn’s cock is already hot and throbbing, so the heat of Kurt’s hand that seeps through the worn knit is overwhelming.  
  
“Finn,” Kurt implores and Finn knows exactly what he’s asking for so he nods. Finn rolls onto his back to shuck off his bottoms and fling them who-knows-where. Finn is sort of aware of Kurt pulling off his own half-discarded clothes and disposing of them, but Finn can’t manage to take his eyes off of Kurt’s erection. It’s long and shaped a little differently from Finn’s, the flesh itself dark and dusky in comparison to all the rest of Kurt’s glorious, milky skin. Finn thinks briefly that it should be weird; he’s never looked at a naked dude before and felt his mouth water, but it’s different with Kurt. Everything is different with Kurt.  
  
They come back together in the center of the bed, facing each other on their sides. Finn takes Kurt in his hand again, immediately pumping from root to tip, causing Kurt to throw his head back and baring the pale column of his throat. When he tilts his head forward again, he looks first at Finn’s face with dilated eyes, but then his gaze travels down his body. Finn’s cock jumps at Kurt’s scrutiny.  
  
Kurt reaches and grasps Finn there, his grip light and testing. He  _holds_  it, feeling the girth and the weight before daring an experimental slide. He looks back up to Finn. “I’ve never,” Kurt admits.  
  
“Me neither,” Finn replies in a private voice.  _Not with a man_ , Finn thinks.  _Not when it felt like this. Not with you._  “I’m just doing it like I would... ya know. To myself.”  
  
Kurt nods shakily in acknowledgement. After a brief moment, Kurt’s grip becomes more assured, dragging the skin over the firmness of Finn’s shaft from just under the head to the base and back again.  
  
“Oh god, dude.” Finn feels his toes curl. “Holy shit.”  
  
“Yeah,” Kurt agrees in a thick voice. He leans closer to Finn, kissing him softly. The affection and gentility contrast starkly with his fierce, twisting grip.  
  
Finn does his best to maintain a steady rhythm on Kurt with his hand, but he knows he occasionally falters and jerks when Kurt flicks his wrist  _just right_. Finn tries the same kind of flicks and teases, trying to find ways to make Kurt bite his lip and let go enough to make the low, unbidden noises that Finn can feel vibrate through his bones. Eventually all technique flies out the window, Finn struggling to remain moving at all when sensation threatens to overtake him. It’s been an embarrassingly short amount of time when Finn feels the irrefutable weight in his balls. It’s so tempting to just come, to finally let go and feel a sort of culmination of the months of desire and need, but he doesn’t want to; he isn’t ready yet.  
  
“Hey,” Finn says, but Kurt doesn’t seem to hear him. There are lines between Kurt’s eyebrows as he concentrates, so Finn tries again, his voice shaky. “Can we slow down?” In response Kurt slides his tongue over Finn’s upper lip which is almost enough to end it all. “Kurt,” Finn moans, drawing out the vowel sound. “I’m not gonna last, man. Please.”  
  
Finn pulls his free hand from under his body and stills Kurt’s flexing forearm. Kurt exhales, nods a little as if he is just now processing Finn’s request, and lets Finn go. Finn rolls onto his back to breathe and get some control, but Kurt follows him. Kurt rests his shoulder and folded arm on Finn’s chest, kissing him sweetly on the mouth and then dragging his lips down the front of Finn’s neck to lick in the hollow between Finn’s collarbones. It doesn’t exactly help Finn to calm down, but it feels  _amazing_  so Finn runs his hands along Kurt’s spine in encouragement.  
  
Kurt crawls between Finn’s legs to bring their mouths together again, and something about the position strikes Finn. Finn lays on his back with his legs spread, Kurt kneeling between them and resting his weight on his elbows as his tongue…  _fucks_  into Finn’s mouth. Something clicks in Finn’s head: this is  _sex_ , unequivocal and stripped. Maybe that’s a weird thing to suddenly realize, but in the whirl of emotions leading to this point, Finn never stopped to think beyond the instinct and desire. Now, with Kurt between his thighs in a position that Finn usually assumes, Finn can see it for what it is.  
  
Kurt widens his knees, lowering his pelvis to align with Finn’s. Theirs dicks slide against each other, causing the muscles in Finn’s thighs to tense and clamp around Kurt’s hips. Finn grabs onto Kurt’s biceps, his fingers biting into the muscle as he holds on, every point of contact between his body and Kurt’s humming with sensation. When the head of Kurt’s cock drags and tugs at Finn’s, it leaves a spot of moisture, easing the glide. Kurt begins circling his hips in a smooth grind: a constant, pressured sweep of back and forth; Finn can’t really even detect a rhythm as Kurt thrusts and retreats in a seamless, mind-numbing swerve to which there is no respite, no room to catch a breath in the endless thrum of exposed nerve.  
  
Finn pulls Kurt down so that their torsos are flush, needing the pressure of Kurt’s weight to tether him to reality. Finn can feel Kurt’s thighs flex as he pumps, unselfconscious and visceral, the perfect contrast to Kurt’s irregular, vulnerable whimpers. Finn can’t decide where to put his hands, so he lets them wander, trying to ground Kurt too, just in case he needs it.  
  
Finn feels his thighs start to shake and he knows he can’t last. Finn mouths wetly at Kurt’s earlobe and whines, “I’m so close, Kurt. So close.”  
  
Kurt hums tersely in acknowledgement, reaching under Finn’s shoulder for additional leverage, and doesn’t relent. “Go on,” Kurt encourages, and his voice sounds  _wrecked_. “It’s okay.”  
  
That’s it; Finn comes, his dick jumping away from his body in its spasms. His body stiffens, his muscles seizing into stone as Kurt just  _keeps_  moving, and Finn wonders if this is what dying feels like.  
  
Once Finn comes down enough to  _think or feel anything_ , he notices Kurt’s rhythm stutter and falter. Finn wants to help him, wants to be the reason that Kurt runs flying over the edge, so he does what he’s been waiting for months to do. He gathers Kurt up in his arms and holds him tight. “Kurt,” Finn exclaims urgently, like he’s trying to get his attention from across the room. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”  
  
Kurt’s forehead lands on Finn’s shoulder with force, somewhat muffling the long, obscene sound that tears from his throat. Finn can  _feel_  Kurt’s dick pulsing, can feel the moisture that splashes between their bodies. Finn knows the second that it’s over, because Kurt’s body goes slack except for his deep, rapid breathing.  
  
Finn continues to hold Kurt to him, relishing his solid presence on his body. When Kurt tries to push himself up, Finn begrudgingly lets him and Kurt looks up to meet Finn’s eyes. Finn isn’t sure how to describe the look he finds there, but he hopes that Kurt is feeling everything he is: awe and elation and bone-deep satisfaction. They kiss again and it’s lazy, just a confirmation and reconnection, finding each other again after the way they came apart.  
  
Kurt moves to roll off of him, so Finn extends his arm for Kurt to lie on. “Whoa,” Finn marvels as he lolls his head from side to side. He’s overheated, debaucherous, and working on getting seriously sticky, but he kind of couldn’t care less. Finn thinks that if everyone could feel the way Finn feels in this moment, humankind would never fight again.  
  
The two lie together on their backs, Finn’s bicep pillowing the curve of Kurt’s neck. Their breathing slows until a stillness falls upon the room. In the silence it’s easy for insecurity to creep in, to wonder if they’ve gone too far too fast. Finn rolls his head to his side and Kurt does the same so that their eyes meet. An unrestrained smile blooms on Kurt’s face so Finn returns it, quelling his worry.  
  
Kurt moves to face Finn but aborts the movement and returns to lying on his back, looking down at the mess on his stomach with a grimace. “Ugh,” he bemoans, looking at Finn with his nose crinkled in disgust. Finn chuckles, and despite being in the same predicament, he leans over Kurt and kisses the creases on his nose. The motion gets some of their mess on the sheets, causing Kurt to scold him. “Finn! Look what you’re doing! Don’t you have some tissues around here somewhere?”  
  
Finn isn’t at all concerned. “Don’t worry about it. We might as well wipe off on them and throw them in the washer.”  
  
Kurt looks doubtful, but after looking around the room for options, he complies. He rubs the fabric disdainfully between his fingers. “Plaid flannel. Seriously? It’s over eighty degrees outside!”  
  
Finn shrugs with one shoulder as he cleans himself up. “It was still kinda cold out when I put them on the bed.”  
  
Kurt’s eyes widen comically. He swings his legs off the bed and stands as he replies, “Excuse me for a moment while I go bathe in fire.”  
  
Kurt walks around the bed toward the door so Finn has to scramble and reach over the edge to catch him. “Hey… don’t go.” Finn puts his hand in Kurt’s and pulls him a step closer to the bed. “Can’t we just stay here for a little while?”  
  
“If you think I’m getting back into that pit of filth, you are seriously deluded.” Finn probably makes a pouty face, but it must be okay, because Kurt steps closer to him and runs his hands through Finn’s hair. “Come on,” Kurt says in a sexy, private voice. “How about you do something about those sheets and then we go take a shower?”  
  
“Nah, we’re not too gross. Let’s go eat something first.” Finn scoots to the edge of the bed to stand up then freezes. “Wait. Did you say that  _we_ —” Finn gestures between the two of them with a finger, “—should go take a shower? Like, together?!”  
  
Kurt tilts his head, smiles smugly, and pats Finn on the head. “You know, food does sound like a good idea. Let’s go downstairs… but put on some boxers or something. I don’t want you leaning against the counter like  _that_.” Kurt gestures at Finn’s nakedness with an open hand as he leans over to retrieve his own boxer-briefs.  
  
Finn obeys, finding his pajama pants thrown over his backpack. He steps into them quickly and rushes to follow Kurt downstairs. “So, the shower thing? After breakfast, that’s still on the table, right?”  
  
Kurt just hums breezily as he enters the kitchen and immediately starts washing his hands. He shoots Finn a look that Finn’s seen a thousand times before, so Finn washes his hands too as Kurt bends over and digs in the drawer under the stove. Finn can’t help but drink him in: his back is wide at the shoulders but tapers down to a slim waist; his muscles and shoulder blades shift as Kurt retrieves a large, flat skillet. His dark red, almost certainly designer boxer-briefs ride low, exposing a dent on each side of Kurt’s spine just above each tight, round swell of Kurt’s ass. Finn realizes that he didn’t get to see it when they were naked before, so he imagines what it must look like and feels confident that it won’t be long before he gets to really see.  
  
Kurt turns around and catches Finn ogling him. He looks expectant.  
  
“Sorry… did you say something?” Finn asks as innocently as possible under the circumstances.  
  
Kurt raises an eyebrow and one side of his smirk. “I  _said_ …” Kurt drags the word out, “that I’m in the mood for crêpes. What do you think?”  
  
Finn can feel his smile spread across his face. “That sounds kinda perfect. How about I make the crêpes and you make the stuff to go in ‘em.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Kurt jabs, but it’s flirty. “I don’t think you can afford  _another_  trip to the Le Creuset outlet.”  
  
Finn steps into Kurt’s space, their bodies a hair’s breadth apart. Kurt tilts his head up as Finn tilts his head down to say, low and serious, “You can trust me.” After a pregnant pause, Finn steps to turn on the burner. “Besides… you’re here with me, right?”  
  
Finn watches the rhythmic expansion of Kurt’s chest as he leans a hip against the kitchen counter. “Yeah, I am,” Kurt admits.  
  
The two work side-by-side, Kurt whipping cream and macerating berries while Finn carefully and methodically produces crêpe after crêpe. He doesn’t burn a single one. 

 

 

Kurt receives his NYADA letter four days before graduation. Kurt shows Finn the envelope the second he pulls it from the mailbox, his face stoic and pale. Finn encourages him to open it, but Kurt refuses, insisting on waiting for Burt and Carole. Carole arrives home first and when she sees the envelope, she calls Burt and orders him to come home right away. The second he pulls into the driveway, Carole practically yanks him from the car and drags him inside. The whole family gathers in a silent circle in the living room as Kurt holds the envelope away from his body in the neutral space between them. Upon Burt’s prodding, Kurt turns it over and tears it open. He reads carefully; Finn watches his eyes move along the lines of text. Kurt’s arms drop as his face fills with shock. He got in.  
  
Suddenly the room comes alive. Burt  _cheers_ , picking Kurt up and swinging him around in a circle. Carole kisses Finn hard on each cheek before doing the same to Kurt and tucking herself into Burt’s side. Kurt turns to Finn, his face unrestrained, full of awe, and achingly beautiful. Finn’s first instinct is to kiss Kurt; to scoop him up and pour his pride into him with his fevered mouth. With their parents standing and watching them though, Finn manages to hold back. Instead he steps up to Kurt and hugs him with everything he has, squeezing until Kurt makes a little noise as the air is forced from his body; Kurt squeezes back just as fiercely though, so Finn doesn’t worry. They don’t let go until Burt clears his throat, forcing the two teens to step back and breathe again.  
  
Kurt’s phone rings and it’s Rachel. When Kurt picks up the call, Finn can hear Rachel squealing even though the phone isn’t on speaker. She is accepted too, and invites the Hudson-Hummels over for a sparkling cider celebration. By the time they get to the Berrys’ house, the party is in full swing, Rachel’s two fathers singing and playing the piano in turn as Rachel offers snacks to a few members of the Glee club. When she sees Kurt, she rushes to him and the two embrace and chatter about their prior worries and eventual elation. Finn feels awkward for a moment, but Rachel notices his presence and hugs him too, thanking him for his support. Finn hugs and congratulates her, relieved that things seem to be okay between them.  
  
Kurt floats about the room in triumph, balancing a flute of sparkling cider in his hand and accepting praise from their friends. His eyes dance and his cheeks flush as he chats with people, more confident and elegant that Finn has ever seen him. Finn hangs back and watches as Kurt has his moment in the sun. When Puck approaches him, Finn smiles; he thinks it’s pretty cool that Puck would come out to support Rachel and Kurt for something like this.  
  
“Hey, bro.” Puck greets Finn with a single, manly chin lift. He looks around the room, before holding out one side of his jacket to show a silver-tone flask in his inside pocket. “I think this party needs a little octane. You want some?”  
  
Finn shakes his head, amused. “Nah, I’m good.”  
  
“Suit yourself,” Puck says as he ducks his head into his jacket to take a swig. When he resurfaces, he asks, “Did you think more about my offer? Ya know… you and me in Hollywood, cleaning pools and banging chicks out in the sun all day?” He leans over conspiratorially. “And we’re talkin’  _starlet_  tail, dude… grade A stuff. You’d be crazy not to come with me.”  
  
Finn waves Puck’s offer away and Puck gives him a disbelieving look as he explains. “Look, man; I appreciate the offer, but… that’s just not for me.” Finn watches Kurt as he and Rachel spin each other around in the center of the room to the music, laughing and joyous.  
  
Puck follows Finn’s eye line before turning back to him. “She’s not gonna be here, man.”  
  
The statement startles Finn out of his thoughts. “Huh?”  
  
“She’s not gonna be here. I don’t know what you’ve got planned to get her back, but she’s leaving, dude. Her and Kurt are going to  _New York_ , so unless you plan on following ‘em…”  
  
Finn’s blood runs cold, the realization hitting him shamefully late. Kurt is leaving. In the fall he’ll go to school in New York and Finn will be… who knows where. Kurt is currently celebrating that he’s leaving Lima and never looking back; he’s dancing with  _Rachel_  as Finn watches from the sidelines. It’s startlingly telling.  
  
His emotion must show on his face, because Puck claps a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Sorry to break the bad news, but somebody had to.” He pats Finn again before retracting his hand. “Think about it. Cali calls, dude.”  
  
Finn stands stunned at the edge of the room. He does his best to smile and perform as people come up to him and ask how excited he is for Kurt and Rachel, but he feels more numb with each passing moment and Kurt looks farther and farther away.  
  
It’s pretty late when they return home, so Burt and Carole turn in quickly, but not before hugging and congratulating Kurt one more time. Once they’ve gone upstairs, Kurt turns to Finn and rakes his eyes over him. Finn thinks he knows what he’s thinking and he doesn’t want to talk about it, so instead he says, “I didn’t see Blaine at the party.”  
  
Kurt waves a hand like it’s not that weird. “Well, he’s at home this weekend and had some function with his parents. They wouldn’t let him out of it. I called him though, and he was really happy for me.”  
  
Finn smiles with all the force he can muster. “That’s good. It still sucks he missed it though.”  
  
Kurt agrees distractedly, narrowing his eyes at Finn. “Is everything… okay?” He reaches out to touch Finn, but Finn withdraws. Finn can hardly stand how worried Kurt looks. “Finn?”  
  
Finn sighs and puts himself in check. Kurt is finally getting his break: his dream is coming true and he’s getting the opportunity he needs to get out of Ohio and into the spotlight. It should be the happiest day of Kurt’s life and Finn can’t bear to sully it. “I’m sorry,” Finn says and shakes his head. “I’m just kinda tired.” He loops his arms around the small of Kurt’s back to pull them flush together. “You’re amazing, Kurt. I knew you’d make it, and I’m  _totally_  proud of you.”  
  
The worry lines slide off Kurt’s face as he exhales. Kurt pulls Finn down to him, kissing him roughly, like he’s been waiting for too long, and Finn gives it back to him. “I missed you,” Kurt confesses, his lips still touching Finn’s. “At the party. I wanted you with me. Next to me.”  
  
Finn feels the words in his gut. “Me too.” He kisses Kurt again, finding first his lips and then his chin and the soft skin underneath. “Me too.”  
  
Kurt hums as he grasps Finn’s hipbone. “Let’s go upstairs,” he blurts in a hushed tone. His eyes look so big.  
  
Finn wonders if this is it—figures that it must be. Kurt’s leaving and he needs to say goodbye. Finn can’t blame him;  _he_  wouldn’t pick himself over the fabulous life of New York. Maybe he should refuse Kurt’s offer in the name of self-preservation, but he wants this,  _needs_  it, and if it causes him more grief later, well then it’s his own fault.  
  
“Yeah,” Finn agrees as he pets the hair at the nape of Kurt’s neck. “Come on.”  
  
Kurt leads Finn up to his room and closes the door behind them. They kiss and touch each other in places they haven’t had a chance to discover before, keeping as silent as they can. Kurt pulls Finn’s shirt off and Finn helps free Kurt of his layers. Kurt presses Finn to the bed and Finn just  _lets_  him; lets him take whatever he wants and feels the purpose in it. Kurt puts his mouth on Finn first, and it’s so good that Finn’s eyesight goes hazy and his knuckles ache from his grip on the sheets. When it’s over, he lays on his back and pants, his ears ringing as Kurt lays beside him, looking at him in a way that makes it too easy to get on his knees at the edge of the bed and reciprocate, testing and tasting until he has to hold Kurt’s thighs down so he doesn’t shake apart.  
  
They lie together afterwards, holding each other skin-to-skin, and Finn could almost forget that it can’t last. He knows he has to get up though, stumble into his own room, and lay in his own bed, missing Kurt like a part of his body. Kurt asks him to stay, but it’s half-hearted; they haven’t talked about what they would say to their parents and can’t stand the thought of Burt or Carole finding them like this. So Finn slinks out of Kurt’s room and into his own bed to find the sheets cold and full of fitful sleep and unmemorable dreams.  
  
The next day the Hudson-Hummels find themselves coexisting in the den; Burt reads the Sunday paper, Kurt clicks away on his laptop, Carole watches a gardening show on TV, and Finn tries to steel himself for his big announcement. It was a suggestion that he’d considered months ago, before he ever thought anything would happen with Kurt, but he knows that Kurt’s acceptance to NYADA is the impetus to finally commit. “Hey, guys? I’ve made an important decision. About my future… what I wanna do.”  
  
Everyone stops and focuses their attention on Finn. Finn’s body is slanted towards Burt and Carole but away from Kurt, so he can’t see his gaze, but he can feel it. “I think… I wanna take over the shop. Ya know, when you aren’t here, Burt.”  
  
Burt’s eyebrows rise. “Really, son? This is the first I’m hearin’ of it.”  
  
“Yeah, I know. But I’ve been thinking about it. It’s something I can  _really_  do, ya know?” Finn looks down at his hands as his picks at the corner of a throw pillow. "Besides, Kurt's leaving, so someone’s gotta do it, right?” Finn tries so hard to make his voice sound steady that it sounds harsh in his ears.  
  
Finn can’t really see Kurt, but he can hear him close his laptop and rise. “Excuse me,” Kurt says in a high, tight voice as he walks around the couch and up the stairs. Finn resists watching him leave.  
  
Burt doesn’t though, his eyes following Kurt up the stairs before turning his eyes back to Finn. “Well, if you’re sure that’s what you want.” Finn nods. “Alright then,” Burt returns his eyes to the newspaper in his hands. “Come and find me at the shop tomorrow after school. We’ll getcha started.”  
  
Finn agrees and turns to look at his mom. She’s watching Finn carefully, looking concerned. Finn gives her his best lopsided smile which must placate her some because she just pats his hand and returns to watching her show. Finn stands and returns to his room when his legs are strong enough.  
  
\---   
  
Finn kind of forgets that he’s taking finals until he arrives at school in the morning. He does his best to muddle through; Chemistry kind of throws him for a loop, but otherwise they seem to go okay. At the end of the day though, Finn feels a little beaten up. He hasn’t seen Kurt at all—his Navigator was already gone by the time Finn left the house in the morning—and he thinks darkly that maybe it’s for the best. When Finn pulls up at the Hummel Tires & Lube, Burt waves in invitation to his office.  
  
“Hey, buddy,” Burt greets. “Come on in ‘n have a seat.” When Finn complies, Burt stops scrolling on his computer and swivels in his seat to face Finn. He leans back and studies Finn closely, his hands crossed over his middle. “So,” he says, unhurried. “You ‘n Kurt, huh?”  
  
Finn wishes he had seen this coming, because then maybe he would have been able to keep the shock and guilt and fear off of his face. “Um... what?”  
  
Burt shakes his head down at his lap. “Listen, don’t try to snowball me, kid. I know you both think you’re so slick, but I can see it all over you… both a’ you.” Burt lifts his chin. “How long?”  
  
Finn gulps and doesn’t even consider lying. “Not long.” Burt stares unnervingly at Finn, causing Finn to scramble to diffuse the situation. “We were gonna tell you, just… after we figured some stuff out. That’s all.”  
  
Burt unfolds his hands and sits up. “I get it, believe me. What I  _don’t_  get is just exactly what you think you’re doin’.” Finn looks down at himself sitting in the chair—he is literally doing  _nothing_ —and wonders what Burt is talking about. Burt clarifies, “I mean with what you said the other day… about takin’ over the shop.”  
  
Oh. “I’m just… Kurt is going to New York, and he’s gonna have this whole amazing life… And that’s awesome, because he deserves it.”  
  
“Right,” Burt nods sharply once. “And?”  
  
“And he’s not gonna need me! He’s not gonna…  _want_  me.” Finn digs his elbows into his knees and buries his head in his hands. “Why would he?” Finn can’t keep the self-pity out of his voice.  
  
“Hmm.” Burt is quiet for a moment. “I’m guessin’ you haven’t said any of this to Kurt.” Finn looks up at Burt and his pathetic face must answer the question for him. “Okay, I’m only gonna tell you this one more time. You have to  _tell Kurt stuff_. He’s a smart kid—smarter than either of us—but he can’t help you if you keep things from him.” Burt stands up and walks around to sit on the front of the desk. “That’s my advice, and don’t forget it next time. It shouldn’t be my job to make sure you guys… do… whatever you do.”  
  
Burt ushers Finn to the door, but Finn spins back around on him. “Does this mean you aren’t gonna teach me about running the shop?”  
  
“Once you get everything figured out and decide that’s what you want, I’ll be here.” He offers a small smile and taps Finn on the shoulder with his fist. “Love you, kid.”  
  
Finn wants to hug Burt, decides against it, and then does it anyway. “Thanks.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Burt chuckles. “Now get outta here ‘n go find ‘im.”  
  
Finn rushes home, but the only car he finds in the driveway is his mom’s. He runs in the house, hastily asking where Kurt is and it’s probably a little rude, but he can’t help it. Carole’s face is questioning, but she nonetheless informs him that Kurt’s spending the night at Rachel’s. Hearing the news feels like having a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. Graduation is tomorrow and yeah, finals are over so his actual  _classes_  will be kind of pointless, but he doesn’t understand how Carole would let Kurt spend such an important night with anyone else. Finn forgets to thank Carole for her help, hops in his truck, and speeds all the way to Rachel’s house.  
  
Rachel’s dad, LeRoy, answers the door. Finn’s relieved; he was always the friendlier of the two when it came to Finn, probably because he wasn’t the one that Finn accidentally clocked in the head. “Mr. Berry. Um, hi… Is Kurt here? I really need to talk to him.”  
  
“Well, Finn! What a nice surprise! Yes, he’s upstairs; please come in…”  
  
Finn shakes his head. “No, thank you. I’ll just… wait right here.”  
  
LeRoy looks puzzled, but he goes back inside so Finn sits on the porch swing and waits, watching cars as they drive by. It’s a few minutes before Kurt slips out the front door. He looks just as puzzled as LeRoy was.  
  
Kurt has his shirt sleeves unbuttoned and rolled-up to the elbow, looking casual and relaxed. Finn wonders how Kurt can always be so composed when he is such a mess. “Finn… What are you doing here?”  
  
“Hey,” Finn greets and immediately feels stupid for it. “Sorry to bother you. I just… I have to tell you some stuff, so just let me, okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Kurt drawls like he’s humoring him.  
  
Finn does his best to explain. “I just wanted to say that… I really am happy for you. And… I get that you’re leaving, and that everything will be different, and… I understand.” Finn shakes his head, having trouble finding the words. “I don’t blame you, for wanting more than this… I’ll never be like the guys in New York, and I… don’t want to hold you back.”  
  
“Wait…” Kurt gestures with a flat hand like he’s trying to slow down time. “Is  _that_  what all that was? Some ‘if you love him, let him go’ garbage?”  
  
“Kurt.” Finn can’t help but cross over to him now; he has to  _touch_  him. “You can do better than Lima. You can do better than  _me_. I know that, and I’m sorry that I made this all so complicated. I just wanted you so bad that I…”  
  
Kurt coos his name and tries to slip his arms around Finn, but Finn steps back and doesn’t let him. Finn turns to leave before he drops to his knees and begs for something selfish. Maybe he didn’t get why this has to end until now, but now that he understands, he can’t pretend that he doesn’t. Finn doesn’t even say goodbye; he just turns around and gets in his truck, listening to Kurt call his name and watching him in his rear-view mirror.  
  
Finn’s only a couple of blocks away when his phone rings. It’s Kurt; of course it is. Finn turns his phone off frantically, as if it’s a threat he has to put down. He drives aimlessly, making pointless loops and crosses in the neighborhoods of Lima until he ends up at the park, which is as good a place to think as any, he figures. He walks the bike trail for a long time, raging and feeling sorry for himself. If the park benches weren’t cemented into the ground, he would have kicked them all over in his turmoil.  
  
When the sun starts to set, he heads home and is met by both Burt and Carole, each showing their worry in their individual ways. Burt is strangely quiet and Finn knows he’s disappointed him, but in the moment he doesn’t care. He just has to get through tomorrow; get through graduation so that he’s an adult and can leave the house, because Finn is aware enough to know that he can’t stay strong with Kurt so close. He knows Puck and his mom will take him in if it comes to that.  
  
The next day at school is a half-day for seniors, after which they’ll be released to get ready for the graduation ceremony. Finn gets his yearbook signed by his friends—and by some people he hardly ever speaks to—and wonders if what they write will even matter in a few years’ time. When the seniors are finally released, Finn heads home to find that Kurt still isn’t there. Finn realizes that he has essentially run Kurt out of his own house, and Finn feels so guilty that he almost skips lunch. As he chews his grilled cheese sandwich, Finn wonders if given the opportunity if he would take it all back; if he would keep his feelings for Kurt a secret even if it means that he never, ever got to hold him. Finn hates himself a little bit to realize that no, he wouldn’t.  
  
Burt and Carole get off work early in order to get ready for the ceremony. Neither of them mentions Kurt—or Finn’s extreme moodiness—and Finn’s grateful. Finn looks in his closet and tries to decide which tie he’s going to wear when there’s a knock at his bedroom door. It’s Rachel, of all people.  
  
“Hello, Finn,” she greets, letting herself in. Finn never turns, mindlessly staring at his ties as if one would eventually jump out at him. “This one,” she advises, plucking from a sad hanger a blue one with multi-colored, diagonal pin stripes and handing it to him. “It’s the one Kurt would pick.” Finn looks at her then, confused by the comment, but before he can stare dumbly for too long Rachel tells him that he has to come with her right away.  
  
Finn blinks at her. “Right now? Rachel, graduation is in a couple of hours.”  
  
“I know,” she says with exasperation. “But Mr. Schue has made some changes in the set list for the ceremony and he’s throwing an emergency rehearsal. We can’t rehearse without our co-captain and male lead.”  
  
Finn sighs. He was kind of hoping to hide out in his room until it was time to go, but when Glee calls, Finn answers. “Alright. Gimme a minute to get ready, okay? I’ll be right down.”  
  
When Finn and Rachel finally arrive at the auditorium, the lights are low and no one else is in sight. “Umm, Rachel? You aren’t gonna try to get us back together again, are you? Because…”  
  
“No, no, no,” Rachel assures him as she waves her hands from side to side at the wrists. She pulls him to the front row of the upper section of seats and pushes him to a sit. “I just really need you to sit here and watch; that’s all.” Rachel smiles without teeth, but before she turns all the way around she confides quietly, “And just for the record… I’m really happy for you.” In a flash she’s gone, leaving Finn to blink dazedly in her wake.  
  
Suddenly, lights brighten on stage revealing Brad on stage right playing a mellow but upbeat [tune](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2IAhQIwcmRw). It’s kind of familiar, but before Finn can place it, a cymbal crashes as lights brighten further to show the jazz band on stage left and a spotlight falls upstage to reveal Kurt, dressed sharply with a bejeweled microphone in his hand. Kurt picks up the cue seamlessly, his voice earnest and steady as he begins to sing.  
  
 _Chances are when said and done  
Who'll be the lucky ones who make it all the way?  
Though you say I could be your answer  
Nothing lasts forever no matter how it feels today_  
  
Kurt strolls over to the piano and sits down next to Brad on the bench, but facing the opposite direction. He leans back precariously over the keys, causing Brad to boggle at him a little.  
  
 _Chances are we'll find a new equation  
Chances roll away from me  
Chances are all they hope to be_  
  
He rises and moves to center stage as Rachel meets him to harmonize for the second verse.  
  
 _Don't get me wrong I'd never say never  
'Cause though love can change the weather  
No act of God can pull me away from you_  
  
Rachel takes his hand and they smile as their arms swing between them. Other members of the Glee club file on stage from the wings, half from off-right and half from off-left, the lines of them passing through each other and looping around Kurt and Rachel. As they pass the front of the stage, each of them smiles and acknowledges Finn; Puck shoots Finn with his finger-guns.  
  
 _I'm just a realistic man, a bottle filled with shells and sand  
Afraid to love beyond what I can lose when it comes to you  
And though I see us through, yeah_  
  
Someone grabs Rachel away from Kurt, leaving him alone in the spotlight. The rest of them pair up behind him, circling around their partners in time with the music.  
  
 _It's a fight with two to one, lay your money on the sun  
Until you crash what have you done? Is there a better bet than love?_  
  
Finn can hardly believe his ears. Kurt is up on stage singing to him in front of  _everyone_. When Kurt sings the word ‘love’, Finn can’t help but feel hope rising in his throat like a lump. In that moment, Kurt strides up to the front of the stage and finds Finn’s eyes somehow, despite the spotlight on him.  
  
 _Chances lost are hope's torn up pages  
Maybe this time_  
  
Suddenly Kurt sprints down the stairs at the front of the stage and up the ones to the upper level of seating. He’s smiling as he sings and never misses a beat as he grabs Finn’s hand and drags him up on stage with the rest of the club.  
  
 _Chances are we'll be the combination  
Chances come and carry me  
Chances are waiting to be taken, and I can see_  
  
Kurt brings them to a stop in center stage, filling his beautiful voice with emotion and looking deeply into Finn’s eyes. Finn can see the rest of the club swirling around them out of his peripheral vision, but he never turns his head. Kurt has him captivated.  
  
 _Chances are only what we make them… and all I need_  
  
Kurt’s voice fades away as Brad plays the piano outro. Kurt’s mic hand relaxes and drops to his side as he watches Finn with a fond look on his face. Finn can  _feel_  the stillness in room as the rest of the club waits in anticipation for his reaction. It doesn’t matter though; everyone or no one could be watching, and Finn would do the exact same thing. He wraps his arms around Kurt, pulling him in and kissing the breath out of them both.  
  
When Puck whistles and tells them to “get some,” Kurt and Finn part and Kurt shoots Puck a mock-bitchy glare. Finn laughs as his friends swirl around them, applauding and congratulating them, the noise of their questions and affectionate goading echoing in the room. Finn feels warm all over with gratitude and acceptance, enjoying the sound of Kurt’s tinkling laugh. Eventually the group disbands in separate directions, but when Santana talks about putting her robe on as she walks away, Finn’s jaw drops in realization.  
  
“Oh, god,” Finn groans. “I left my stuff at home! I’m gonna have to go back and get it. How much time do we have?”  
  
Kurt shakes his head and stills Finn with a hand on his arm. “No, you don’t. I brought your robe and mortarboard with me. They’re in my car.”  
  
Finn blinks. “You mean you took my stuff with you before you left for Rachel’s?”  
  
Kurt nods in a ‘well, duh’ expression. “I knew you’d forget it.”  
  
“So you were planning on us making up all along?”  
  
Kurt raises one eyebrow. “I didn’t know we were fighting, not until you made a scene at Rachel’s.”  
  
“But, I…”  
  
Kurt puts a hand up to stop Finn from rambling and steps close into his body. “I admit that what you said stung, but when I figured out what was going on, I knew that I could fix it.” Kurt puts hand on Finn’s cheek and Finn leans into it. “Finn, I’m going to New York—I can’t  _not_ —but I don’t think that means we have to give this up. I mean… that’s not what I want.” Kurt’s voice softens. “Do you?”  
  
Finn shakes his head vehemently, closing his eyes with how much he means it. Finn wishes that in this moment he wasn’t still worried, but he is. “But what if…”  
  
Kurt’s brow furrows with incredulity. “Why do you keep doing that? Why did you try so hard to win me over, only to disbelieve that I could love you back?” When Kurt says the L-word again, it stops Finn's self-doubt train in its tracks. “Finn, I’m not sure how this is going to go either, but I’m not too scared to find out. How can I prove it to you… Should I invite you to come to New York with me?”  
  
Finn is kind of shocked. He had never really considered it. “You’d… want that?”  
  
“If it’s what  _you_  want. You can stay and run the shop, or you can come to New York and find yourself, or… I don’t know! But whatever you decide, if you want your future to include me like  _this_ ,” Kurt gestures between them and Finn knows exactly what he means, “then we’ll make it work. Okay?”  
  
Finn nods, his emotion a tangible lump in his throat. He tugs Kurt to him and embraces him fiercely, feeling like he can’t get him close enough. Suddenly a thought occurs to him. “Wait. So you’re saying that I pretty much made up all that bad stuff in my head?”  
  
“Yep,” Kurt confirms with the smuggest smirk he can muster. “You kinda did.” Finn feels like an idiot, but he doesn’t have to say as much before Kurt teases him and tugs at his sleeve. “And people say that _I_ have a flair for the dramatic.”  
  
Finn laughs and it’s mostly relief. He still doesn’t know what will happen with them or where they will end up, but suddenly their future looks so full of possibility. Finn has all summer to decide what to do and Kurt will be right there to help him. Actually, now that Finn thinks about it, maybe Kurt was onto something when he mentioned drama; Finn thinks he’ll have to look into that.  
  
Packed with people and music, the auditorium thrums with excitement and enthusiasm as Principal Figgins names each graduate in turn. When he moves his tassel from left to right, a wave of nostalgia hits Finn, reminding him of the trials and the triumphs that he had in this school and on this very stage. Kurt’s name is called next and by the time he joins Finn in the risers, Finn can feel his feelings overtaking him: pride, fear, gratitude. Finn can feel himself start to worry about the future, about adulthood and what it means, but before he can panic, Kurt slides his hand into Finn’s and steadies him. Finn can feel his tension ease and reminds himself that he doesn’t have to have all the answers, not right now. He has time. Besides, the best thing he got out of high school is still standing next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder and hand-in-hand.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Many sincere thanks to the following cheerleaders, betas, and artists:
> 
> epanaphoric, morgana_hallow, ladydreamer, lizajaneok, aoitsukikage, stillandstorm


End file.
